


Love In A Hopeless Place

by insanechayne



Category: Rickyl - Fandom, The Walking Dead
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-07 13:13:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 28,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanechayne/pseuds/insanechayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick and Daryl's story of blossoming love after the walker outbreak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clearing

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FROM THE SECOND HALF OF SEASON THREE, AND POSSIBLY EVEN SEASON FOUR, IF MY STORY'S PREDICTIONS OF THINGS END UP BEING CORRECT (that will become clear at a later time).  
> There will be a death, and a lot of feels, and sadness, but also happiness and love.  
> This is my first chapter of my first ever Rick/Daryl fic, so it might be a bit rough around the edges. I need some time to hit my stride, so please don't get too upset with me.  
> So just give me a chance, I guess.

The sun glanced off of Daryl’s chestnut colored hair, giving it an almost angelic shine, as he shoved the yellow tipped arrow through an anonymous walker’s dead brain. His arm and shoulder muscles, toned from many years of hard work and fighting to survive, flexed and stretched under his sun-browned skin, and his angel wing vest fluttered around his hips with his movement. Simply put he was walking sex.

Rick swallowed roughly, the saliva catching on his Adam’s Apple, and nearly choking him. He coughed quite violently, eliciting an amused look from Daryl. Rick turned away from the other man quickly, pounding on his chest as he proceeded to hack up a lung. He could hear Daryl chuckle behind him along with the squish of another walker’s brain being turned to mush, and his cheeks grew slightly pink with embarrassment. 

Rick and Daryl had gone out on a supply run earlier that morning, and had been hindered by a small group of about six walkers on the way to the closest warehouse, which was actually about five miles from the prison. Not very far by car, unless of course you had to drive cautiously, and therefore slowly, so as not to attract walkers; worse yet when you did manage to draw in walkers and had to pick them off for your own safety. Daryl may not have minded stabbing out a corpse’s face repeatedly, but after a while it made Rick feel somewhat ill. 

“What’d Glenn say his gal needed?” Daryl spoke without looking at Rick, grunting as he dragged one of the now completely lifeless bodies toward the shoulder of the road. 

Maggie had become quite sick during the night, vomiting up everything she’d eaten during the day, and running a low, non-walker related fever. Glenn worried that she had somehow managed to contract the flu, even though that seemed unlikely considering the fact that there was no one to get that particular virus from at the prison or on supply runs. Stranger things had happened, though, so Rick and Daryl had stepped up to take their place; out of everyone at that prison they were the most likely to be able to get in and out of the warehouse without much trouble. 

“Any kind of medicine for the flu, if we could even find such a thing anymore, and a can of chicken noodle soup. Pretty sure the best we’ll find is some cold remedy, though, and probably a package of regular old noodles, without the chicken or the soup. I feel bad for the kid. I really hope this sickness doesn’t get much worse; the last thing I need is for Judith or Carl to suddenly catch it, too.” Rick shook his head, trying to stop himself from babbling. He wasn’t really prone to talking, but somehow when he got nervous he talked a little too much; the weird thing was that he only seemed to get nervous around Daryl. 

Daryl was a great friend, a better friend than Shane, for sure, and he made for an excellent second-in-command, though that wasn’t really what was needed nowadays; for some reason that Rick couldn’t quite pinpoint, however, he felt eternally embarrassed around the laid-back redneck. 

“A’right.” Daryl nodded absentmindedly to himself as he pulled another body out of the way of their car’s path. He was always doing that, pretending nonchalance, even though he heard and saw everything that went on around him. At least he never said anything that might hurt someone else, or embarrass them in any way; he was kind like that. He kept to himself, and came when he was needed, which he frequently was.

The two men cleared the rest of the bodies from the road in silence, Rick occasionally stealing glances at Daryl when he thought the other man wasn’t looking, and Daryl pretending he didn’t notice Rick doing so. The quiet was amicable, like nothing needed to be said, but there was something lingering in the stillness, something that remained unsaid, and would probably continue to be so.

Rick brushed his hands on his trousers, trying to wipe away the feeling of pliable flesh and decay from his palms. Daryl spit on his palms and rubbed them together, ignoring the odd look that Rick gave him, before hopping back in the car and slamming the passenger door. Rick turned in a slow circle, taking in every angle and making sure there were no other walkers nearby, before climbing into the driver’s seat and continuing down the road.


	2. Finalization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still getting a feel for how to write the way Rick and Daryl talk throughout the show, so if the dialouge's a bit off don't get mad at me.

The parking lot to the Costco remained as deserted as it had been for many months before, the cars that never left pushed to the outskirts of the asphalt to allow for easier entry and exit. Rick pulled up to the front of the double set of sliding doors to make their escape faster, if they needed to leave in a hurry.

Rick and Daryl’s silence continued as they emerged from the mint-green car, crossbow, gun, and knives up in combat positions, and made their way to the doors, continuously turning in matching circles to make sure the coast was clear. They made it into the warehouse without incident, and blocked the doors shut behind them as best as they could. 

“Where do you think flu medicine would even be in this place?” Rick mumbled under his breath in a way that made Daryl confused as to whether the ex-cop was talking to him or to his own head; he did that sometimes, talked to himself or what was in his mind. Daryl didn’t judge him for it; Rick had been through enough to put any weaker person in the nuthouse for good, but he’d managed to stay a strong leader to the group through everything. In Daryl’s humble opinion if Rick wanted to talk to his dead wife or friend or even a pink elephant in a rainbow tutu, then he deserved to do so without anyone else’s judgment. 

Rick was too busy looking at the labels beside all of the aisles to notice Daryl’s inconspicuous sideways stare. Rick’s now salt-and-pepper hair had grown scraggly, and curled wildly around his head and face. His beard stubble had grown out more than before, giving him an almost homeless look, which they all were, in a way; nevertheless the beard suited him, and he wore it with a certain pride that no one would dare take away from him. His once beige sheriff’s shirt had faded to an odd mixture between muddy brown and pale yellow, and it was much baggier than before; it didn’t fit his leaner frame quite as well as it used to, and gave away no indication of the abdominal and chest muscles that lay beneath it. Rick looked rugged, strong, like a leader who had managed to keep his sanity through horrific incidents, which was exactly what he was. 

Daryl shook his head slightly at himself. Where had these thoughts come from? This wasn’t like him. He sauntered off in the direction of what appeared to be toothpaste and hair color, figuring that any kind of medicine would most likely be with those items. He heard Rick’s boots shuffle across the floor as he tried to catch up to Daryl, quickly falling into step beside the angelic redneck. 

Daryl skimmed over the unimportant items like women’s hair dye, hair brushes, and one or two headbands that lay abandoned on the shelves, managing to make it to the end of the aisle without finding what he was looking for. He darted around to the lane on their right, but was confronted with several boxes of toothpaste, rather than any form of medicine. 

“Ain’t nobody thought to put medicine with toothpaste to git the damn disgustin’ taste out of your mouths after?” Daryl grumbled, trying to say it to himself, but managing to alert Rick to his angered tone. He grabbed a tube of Colgate that was missing it’s packaging and threw it on the floor, stomping down on it with the heel of his boot. The cap exploded off, flying across the store, and the contents inside the tube squirted into a semi-liquid mess down the entire aisle, causing Daryl to laugh lightly. 

Rick smiled at the sound of Daryl’s laugh; it was nice to see his friend happy when happiness was so hard to find these days. He leaned against a shelf to watch Daryl demolish more toothpaste tubes, when suddenly Daryl stopped, the toe of his boot resting in the bluish-white goop, and sighed sadly. His back was to Rick, so Rick couldn’t see the expression on Daryl’s face, but he knew it couldn’t be good.

“Daryl, what’s the matter?” Rick spoke gently as he walked toward Daryl, resting his hand lightly on the man’s bare shoulder. Daryl jerked his arm away violently, and spun to face Rick, a burning determination in his eyes. Rick backed up a few steps, his eyes widening slightly. 

“Rick, I just…” Daryl’s anger snuffed out as quickly as it had flared up, the concern in Rick’s eyes smothering it for good. “Never mind. Let’s just git the stuff for Maggie and go.” Daryl averted his eyes from Rick’s and turned his back on the sheriff once more, striding down the aisle. 

Rick followed behind Daryl slowly, purposely lagging back in case Daryl became upset again. Something about the determination in Daryl’s eyes seemed off to Rick. There was anger there, sure, but there was usually anger in Daryl’s expressions; it was just a burden he carried deep inside his soul. But this time was different; confliction resided in those eyes, as if Daryl was trying to decide whether or not to say something potentially troubling. Rick wasn’t one to pry. He’d let Daryl get it out in his own time. However, he had something he needed to tell Daryl first.

The look that Daryl had given him had resolved something in Rick. The time might not have been perfect, but it was as good as any, and it was just them now.  
“Daryl, I gotta tell you something.” Rick spoke in a hushed tone, not wanting to set Daryl’s temper off. 

Daryl stopped, turning slightly to look at Rick. He didn’t say anything, just waited for Rick to say what he needed to. Rick’s eyes showed his nervousness, and that made Daryl feel bad for snapping at him just moments before, though there wasn’t much he could do to resolve that now.

Rick’s resolve wavered momentarily and he stopped in front of Daryl, his eyes finding the floor. As much as he wanted to tell Daryl what he needed to say, he was kind of worried that Daryl would put an arrow in his chest if he did. 

“Well spit it out, man.” Daryl’s gruff voice was both soft and impatient, and he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking.

Rick took a breath to steady his nerves, and finally met Daryl’s gaze. “Daryl, I like you. Not just like a friend, or a brother, but… well, like how I liked Lori, once upon a time. There’s somethin’ about you that just makes me wanna be with you.” Rick wasn’t nervous anymore. If Daryl put an arrow through him, then so be it; he was just glad to have gotten this out.

Daryl didn’t betray the shocked feeling he felt inside. Had Rick really just said that? He warred with himself long enough to make Rick think that Daryl really was planning to kill him. Finally, Daryl spoke up.

“Yeah, I like you, too. Have for a while now. After everything that happened with Merle… you’ve just always been there for me, Rick. It’s like I once told Carol, you’re a man with honor, and that’s something I respect, a lot.”

“So… does that mean we’re together now?” 

“Guess so.” Daryl chuckled, his brown eyes sparkling as they locked with Rick’s once more, a grin spreading across his face. “That’s actually what I was upset about back there. I wanted to tell you I liked you, but I thought you’d be creeped out by me. So I just got mad at everything.”

“At least we’re both in agreement. Kinda thought you were gonna put an arrow in me.” Rick smiled seeing Daryl’s grin. This was happening. They could be happy together now.

“So should we kiss? Make it official?” Daryl cocked an eyebrow playfully at Rick, an invitation.

“I think we should.” Rick closed the distance between them in two steps, standing just inches from Daryl. He wondered if kissing Daryl would be anything like kissing Lori as he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. The kiss was somewhat guarded, like the way two middle schoolers might kiss for the first time at a dance, but it was still sweet, and it sealed the deal, so to speak.

They pulled back after a moment, just looking at each other. This kiss was nothing like kissing Lori; it was better.


	3. Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, and probably kind of choppy, but I swear it'll get better soon. Thanks for reading, though, guys.

Rick and Daryl managed to scrounge up one can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup, three boxes of cold and flu remedy pills, one bottle of cough syrup, and a bounty of tampons and pads for the women; it never hurt to have a stockpile of those around the prison, though both of the men giggled like school girls as they collected armfuls of Tampax and Always packages. 

After shoving their spoils into bags they loaded everything into the back of the van, and drove off, their hands entwined for the first few minutes of silence as they made their way back to the prison. Soon, though, Rick needed both hands to steer around some walker bodies that had been left behind by careless people, and Daryl said he felt kind of silly holding hands with Rick on their first date. As Merle would have said, Rick should have either fed Daryl a rib-sticking meal or felaciated his piece before any of that mushy stuff came into play; not that Daryl took much stock in what Merle would have said.

“What are ya gonna tell Carl?” Daryl asked, staring out the window at the passing wall of trees. He spotted a possum clambering up one of the tree’s trunks, and thought that if they had been in this spot a year or two ago he might have caught the critter and cooked it for dinner. 

Rick froze up at the mention of Carl. He hadn’t actually given much thought to that particular problem, since they had just fallen into a relationship about twenty minutes ago. Nevertheless, if was an issue that had to be dealt with as soon as possible. Rick didn’t really want Carl to know, though, at least not yet. It had only been about six months since the poor boy had had to put a bullet through his own mother’s brain, and the kid still carried that burden on his conscience everywhere he went. What would Carl even say, Rick wondered, if either he, or Daryl, or both, sat him down and told him that his father was gay for a redneck he’d only known for about a year, and still so soon after losing his wife? Rick was almost certain that Carl wouldn’t take that news well.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to say to Carl. This isn’t one of those things you can just sit him down and talk about, and expect him to understand and be okay with right away. I mean, he had to shoot Lori, and that wasn’t all that long ago, though it sometimes seems that way. I don’t know what to say to the rest of the group, either.” Rick was babbling again. Daryl had picked up on Rick’s little nervous tick the first time he did it, way back when they still had camp close to Atlanta, and the two weren’t quite friends yet. It was actually kind of cute, how he talked so much when he was anxious about something; it made Daryl smirk slightly before returning his attention to the issue at hand.

“I didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout tellin’ the rest of the group. Far as I’m concerned it ain’t none of their business what we feel for each other, and it should stay that way.” Daryl had been judged enough in his life; he didn’t need Hershel throwing a Bible at him, or Carol looking at him with those sad eyes. 

“Alright, so we won’t tell anyone about… us, at least for now. But you know Carol adores you, and she’s going to be hanging around you just as much as she always has. What are you plannin’ to do about that? Knowing you don’t feel the same for her will devastate her.” Rick peered at Daryl from the corner of his eye; Daryl turned his head completely toward the window so that Rick wouldn’t see his unhappy expression. 

Carol was infatuated with Daryl, and it wasn’t that Daryl didn’t like her back, he just liked Rick more. He and Carol had been through so much back at Hershel’s farm, and the first few months at the prison, it was no wonder he was practically her knight in shining armor. If he said a word to Carol she’d probably avoid him like the plague, and the friendship and support he always counted on her for would be gone. 

Daryl huffed, and didn’t answer. His silence was answer enough; he just wasn’t going to tell her, of course, and he’d act like himself, like he always did. She’d never suspect a thing, if all went well.

Rick took Daryl’s silence as the end of the conversation, and they rode in quiet stillness the rest of the way back to the prison.


	4. Home Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter. I wasn't really sure where to go with this one. I just wanted to get it done.

The return back to the prison was as uneventful as it always was. Carol and Carl pulled the chain-link fence out of the way so that the car could enter, then pushed it closed once more. Glenn met them at the courtyard to help unload everything, anxiously rifling through the bags to see what the two men had been able to scrounge up in the way of medicine for Maggie. He was grateful for what they had managed to find, of course, but raised an eyebrow at the packages of feminine hygiene products. 

“Won’t Mags and Beth be needin’ them soon, Chinaman?” Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder and smirked at Glenn, seeing where the Korean’s stare was directed. He had taken to calling Glenn ‘Chinaman’ as a kind of inside joke from all the times had had to correct Daryl and Merle on his race. Glenn was used to the light teasing now, even though it used to bother him greatly. He had changed since Maggie had entered his life; things that had once bothered him didn’t seem to anymore, though the same could be said for the vice versa. 

“Yes, I’m sure Maggie will be needing them soon enough.” Glenn overemphasized his not-quite-official wife’s name, giving Daryl a look of playful indignance, and stalked off back to the cells the group called home. He had other matters to attend to besides the banter that he normally would have engaged in with Daryl.   
Daryl looked over at Rick, rolling his eyes before anyone around them could notice. Rick gave a slight shake of his head, not as an admonishment, but as an agreement, and they both smiled briefly. 

“Glad to see you both made it back safely.” Carol had made her way across the yard and over to Daryl’s side where she placed a hand lightly on his lower back. Though she seemed to have been speaking to both men, she looked only at Daryl as she said it, and everyone around knew that, though she was being polite to Rick, she really only cared for her angel’s safety. Daryl threw Rick another glance, and Rick could read the panic in his eyes that no one else would notice. 

Daryl placed his arm around Carol’s shoulders, a gesture he wouldn’t normally succumb to in front of others, or at all, unless he knew her feelings would be hurt if he didn’t. Her face beamed at his touch, her smile growing wider over her cheeks. God, this was difficult, having to pretend everything was the same as always, knowing that he was just leading her on, and would eventually crush her. 

Daryl dropped his arm after a moment, masking his feelings by grabbing a few bags in each hand. “Got caught up in a small herd ‘a walkers. Ain’t nothin’ a Dixon and a Grimes can’t handle.” His tone was light, the same monotone it always bore, but the conversation seemed strained. After a year of everyone living in the same area with nothing to do but talk you ran out of things to talk about, unless you were into sharing personal stories, which Daryl wasn’t. His memories had been turned into physical reminders by his father, the stories all laid out in the multiple scars on his back; he saw no reason to revisit them and emotionally scar the others as much as he had been scarred. 

Daryl turned and walked into the prison, winding his way through the hallways and various entryways to the kitchen, where they had taken to putting all of their supplies, to unload the bags. 

Carol looked up at Rick, concern and curiosity furrowing her brow. If anyone could tell when something was wrong with Daryl, other than Rick, it was her.  
“Is he alright?” She partially whispered, taking a step closer to the sheriff so that no one else would hear them. 

“He’s fine. He hasn’t said much all day. He’s probably just tired or hungry, or something along those lines. I don’t think he’s been sleeping well lately, and it’s not like any of us really get enough food in this place, you know?” Rick was doing it again, the babbling. He really needed to rein that in before someone picked up on it. 

Carol simply nodded and plodded back to the guard tower where she usually took watch, while Rick closed the van’s trunk door. He planned to go to the group’s cell area for a few minutes, maybe check on Maggie, and probably ask Hershel what he thought was wrong, away from Glenn, of course. But when Rick stepped into their common area he happened to look up to where Daryl spent his nights; up in his perch Daryl stood with his head in his hands, eyes focused on nothing in particular as he stared out the window.


	5. Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be disturbing for those with weak constitutions. This is where the "Graphic Depictions of Violence" tag comes in. Just wanted to warn everyone so there's no surprises here.

Rick stared up at Daryl’s perch for a few minutes, watching his angel sigh and mope, and wondering why Daryl seemed so upset. After all that had just happened between them shouldn’t he have been happy? Rick, for one, was ecstatic; he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and somehow he knew that everything would work out in the future. Well, he would just ask Daryl about it later when everyone else was asleep.

Rick knocked on the wall just inside of Maggie and Glenn’s cell where the two, along with Hershel, were sitting in a tight cluster. Maggie lay sprawled on the bed, looking almost bored to be there, and Glenn had his hand clutching hers, their fingers twined loosely. Hershel was reading another passage from his Bible, and he just barely glanced up when Rick entered; nothing was more important to him than God’s word, especially now that they had all been thrust into the apocalypse.  
“How’re you doin’, Maggie?” Rick smiled at the young woman, his blue eyes meeting her green ones.

Maggie returned the smile, her eyes seeming to light up at the expression on Rick’s face. It had been much too long since anyone had seen him in such buoyant spirits, and his grin was quite infectious, at least to her. “I feel a lot better, though a little bit weak. Throwin’ up does that to a person, I guess. I managed to keep that soup down, at least. I’d like to thank you for that, Rick. Means a lot to me that you’d go on a risky raid just to bring back somethin’ to help me feel better.”

Rick chuckled, feeling a bit embarrassed by her gratitude. He knew that everyone appreciated what he did for the group, but ‘thank you’ wasn’t often spoken anymore. “You should be thanking Daryl. He’s actually the one who found the can in the first place. I might’ve overlooked it, actually. He found it hiding away under one of the ground level shelves. Someone must’ve knocked it down there when they were gathering food.” Rick clamped his mouth shut with a slight deal of effort. Just talking about Daryl had made him start rambling. 

Luckily, though, no one seemed to notice anything amiss, except for Daryl, who happened to overhear everything from his upper cell. The redneck had folded his arms one over the other and rested his chin on his forearm, and was just watching the walkers trapped in the field. His ears picked up every word that Maggie and Rick had said, and Rick’s words brought a slight smirk to his face. He loved Rick, he genuinely did, but he was afraid of what that love would lead to. 

A memory played in his head repeatedly, like a scene from a movie on a cut reel: Merle and Daryl had been wandering around their small town, looking for some trouble to get into, when Merle happened to see the one guy in town who was rumored to be gay. The guy wouldn’t strike you as anything other than average if you were to see him on the street. His hair was a light shade of brown, nothing worth noticing, and the same went for his eyes. He was wearing a plain, gray t-shirt, Daryl remembered, and faded blue jeans with cowboy boots peeking out from underneath. Those boots were the only possible sign that the guy was anything above average, since they had gone out of style way too long ago for anyone to be wearing them anymore, unless of course they were a weiner-munchin’ fag, as Merle had said. 

“Ya gonna learn yerself a valuable lesson today, little brother.” Merle’s grinning face loomed in Daryl’s mind, the look in his eyes nothing short of insane.   
Merle walked up to the guy as if he knew him, acted sweet as sugar while they strolled down the sidewalk, right up until they hit an alleyway that no one was paying any attention to. Merle shoved the guy down into the asphalt, kicking him all the way down to the end.

“There ain’t no place for ya in our world, faggit!” Merle shouted as he spit in the guy’s face. The poor guy curled into a ball and cowered on the ground, holding his hands palm up in surrender.

“P-please, sir, don’t- don’t hurt me. You can ha-have my money, anything you w-want. Just please lea-leave me a-alone.” The guy was begging for his life now, his breath shaky from all the times Merle had kicked him the stomach. Daryl had watched on in disgust, not wanting to be an accomplice to this, but he didn’t intervene; he knew that Merle would just round on him if he tried to protect the stranger, and he got enough whoopin’ at home just for being himself.

“I don’ want no faggit’s dirty money. I want yer ass gone from my town!” Merle kicked the guy in the crotch, and then the face when the guy’s hands moved downward to try and shield himself. 

Daryl turned away after that, facing the street instead of the scene behind him. He would later tell Merle that he was looking out for cops or other passerby, a line that Merle would accept with selfish gratitude.

“Y’see, little brother, ain’t no place in the normal world for a guy who likes to take it from n’other guy.” Merle gripped Daryl’s shoulder, half squeezing, half shaking, making sure Daryl got the point. Daryl nodded, said he understood, that he would never dream of forsaking a woman’s luscious body for a guy’s, and Merle had given him a beer and called him a smart kid, and that had, thankfully, been the end of that. 

Daryl shook his head back into reality. Merle was dead, so who cared what he thought now? Rick made Daryl happy, happier than he ever thought he’d be again. He turned to look at the collection of cells on the first floor, meeting Rick’s wide blue eyes. Rick had finished his talk with Maggie, telling her to take it easy for at least the rest of the day, and see how she felt tomorrow, and had turned to look at Daryl once more, trying to figure out what was going through his head. Rick cocked his head slightly, as if to ask Daryl if he was alright, and Daryl nodded, giving Rick a curt smile as he did. 

Yes, he would be alright, as long as he had Rick by his side.


	6. Almost Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dick (Rickyl) fluff ahead.  
> From now on I will be making song titles (and possibly lyrics) the titles of my chapters. If you can correctly guess the band/artist I will visit your profile, read some of your stories, then give my favorite story, and you, a shoutout in the notes of the newest chapter. So get guessing, guys!

Daryl sat on his bunk, his back pressed against the wall and his crossbow in his lap, listening to the sounds of his family snoring peacefully in dreams. Sitting here alone, with nothing to hold but his weapon, made him somewhat sad. He had never really had a sense of family, since his had always been so fucked up, but he knew that what he had with this small group of survivors was what family was really supposed to be like. Hershel was like the grandfather figure that everyone looked to for wisdom and support. Rick was the son who had inherited everything, and therefore became the head of the household. Glenn was the smart cousin that everyone teased because they were really jealous of him, and Maggie was the girl he’d married into their family, the one piece that had always been missing, and then fit perfectly with the rest. Carol was both a mother hen and an older sister that everyone looked to for comfort. Michonne was the member that didn’t speak much, but would be there for you no matter what. And what was a family without a few kids running around? Carl, Beth, and Judith made the group a little bit brighter just by being who they were.

But where did Daryl fit in? He was like that one uncle or cousin that was always on the outskirts of things, lumped into the ‘family’ category simply because they couldn’t get rid of his bloodline, or at least he felt that way sometimes. 

Daryl’s blue eyes watered slightly, and he stopped stroking his crossbow to quickly wipe away the tears before they could fall. He wasn’t a crier, and he’d be damned if he was gonna turn soft now. It was probably because of the way that his real family had treated him that he didn’t believe that anyone else could love him, or consider him family, even though he knew he was wrong about that. In a different time, a different place, a different world he might have gone to a therapist to try and correct that way of thinking, but all he had now was himself, and Rick, though he wasn’t sure he’d want to burden Rick with these thoughts. 

Meanwhile, Rick lay in his bunk, awake and staring at Judith’s little crib. He was so truly grateful to Carl and Michonne for finding one, though at the time he’d been too upset with having to deal with Morgan and the Governor to tell them that. With everything else that had happened showing them his appreciation had slipped his mind, but every night he said a silent ‘thank you’ as he looked at his daughter through the safety bars. 

Judith cooed softly in her sleep, bringing her thumb up to her mouth to suckle on in her dreams. Rick sat up and peered down at her, taking in how perfect her little form looked on the blankets and padding. Deep in his heart he knew that Judith wasn’t really his, but rather Shane’s, baby, but when he looked at her all he could see was Lori, and for that he thanked God every day. 

Rick sighed, almost wishing Lori were here still so he’d have someone to hold, someone to let all his sadness out with. It then occurred to him that Daryl was probably still awake, since Daryl never seemed to sleep. He rose to his feet silently, glad that he always slept with his cell door open in case of emergencies, and crept over to Daryl’s perch. 

Daryl had picked up on the sound of soft footsteps coming towards his area, and knew that it was probably Carol, coming to sleep by him as she often did these days. For some reason, she said she had started getting frequent nightmares lately, and asked if she could stay with him some nights. Before he had figured out his feelings for Rick he had agreed, thinking that maybe he could feel something more for her, which of course hadn’t happened. Nevertheless he laid his crossbow aside and scooted down to the foot of the mattress so that she would be able to lie comfortably next to him. 

Rick knocked quietly on the wall inside Daryl’s cell to make his presence known. Daryl looked up, hiding the surprise in his eyes at who stood in his doorway. He didn’t think Rick would be awake, or visiting him this late so soon into their relationship. 

“Uh… hey.” Rick stood awkwardly in the entryway, trying to think of something normal to say.

Daryl quickly masked his surprise, and nodded to Rick. “Hey.”

“Would you, uh… mind if I came and sat with ya for a bit?” 

“C’mon in.” Daryl patted the space next to him on the bed, and Rick walked in stiffly, sitting down on the very edge of the mattress. Daryl grabbed the sheriff’s arm and gently pulled him further back on the bed. “You can make y’self comfy, y’know.”

Rick swallowed roughly at Daryl’s touch, heat rising into his cheeks that he hoped wasn’t noticeable to his redneck. He shifted himself into a more comfortable position, just inches away from skin contact with Daryl. 

“What brings ya here s’late?” Daryl spoke in an absentminded tone, as if he didn’t really care about the answer. Rick knew him well enough to know that Daryl was just trying to make him feel more at ease, and surprisingly enough it worked. 

“Just wanted to talk.” Rick tried to keep his voice from wavering; being this close to the man he adored made it hard for him to keep calm. 

“Talk then.” Daryl’s words seemed harsh, but they were spoken gently.

“Daryl, earlier when you were up here staring out the window… was everything okay? I mean, I want to make sure you’re alright with this.” Rick turned his head so that he could gauge Daryl’s reaction as he took Daryl’s hand in his own, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

Daryl looked down at their hands, seeming almost confused by the way Rick’s palm felt against his own. It fit too perfectly, like it was meant to be a part of him, rather than separate from him; it felt like Rick was supposed to be a part of him. 

“Yeah, I’m good with it.” Daryl didn’t meet Rick’s eyes. The memory he’d suffered through remembering earlier surfaced once more, putting a grimace on his face.

Rick perked up at the change in Daryl’s mood, and wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around the other man’s shoulders and pull him into a loving embrace. He refrained, though, because he wasn’t sure how Daryl would react to such a gesture. Instead he slipped his fingers through Daryl’s, curling them lovingly over the back of his angel’s hand. Daryl didn’t seem to mind this either, though he was more than good at masking his emotions. 

Daryl could feel Rick’s eyes scrutinizing his face. He wanted nothing more than to meet those gorgeous blue eyes with his own, to really look into them, down to the very essence of Rick’s soul, but he thought that might be awkward, so he kept his eyes focused on their laced fingers instead. 

“Daryl,” Rick expected the other man to meet his gaze, but there was no movement from Daryl. “Daryl, please look at me.”

Daryl finally raised his eyes to Rick’s, and was sure he’d never be able to look away again. The pull he felt to Rick was stronger than anything he’d ever felt before with any of his past lovers, or even Carol, who he was almost certain he could fall into something with. 

Rick tentatively raised his free hand to cup Daryl’s jaw. Daryl flinched slightly, still not used to be touched so sweetly, but didn’t move away from the sheriff. Rick bit the inside of his lip, not quite sure how to proceed. Should he pull Daryl into a hug? Should he press their foreheads together? Should he just kiss those luscious lips like he was yearning to?

Daryl stared at Rick as he tried to make up his mind. Rick was getting flustered, the heat in his cheeks burning brighter, and Daryl could see the man’s blush in the moonlight filtering through his window. Daryl, awkward as he felt inside, knew what Rick wanted to do, and he was more than willing to oblige. Daryl closed the gap between them, melding their lips together with no hesitation. Rick, relieved that Daryl seemed able to read his mind, closed his eyes as their lips moved in sync. 

How long had it been since they’d started kissing? Neither one knew. It was a long time, though, since neither seemed to want to stop for a while. After they had both had their fill and pulled away, Rick leaned back against the wall, Daryl doing the same, and smiled the most joyful smile he’d had in months. 

Though they sat a few inches apart their hands remained locked together. Now Rick broke the contact, wrapping his arm around Daryl’s shoulders instead. Daryl stiffened momentarily, then relaxed, letting Rick pull him closer. Daryl rested the side of his head against Rick’s shoulder in a position uncomfortable for both of them.

Rick cleared his throat, looking downward at Daryl as he spoke. “You can make yourself more, ah, comfy, if you want.”

Daryl murmured a consent and lowered his head to Rick’s chest, wrapping an arm over the sheriff’s waist. Soon enough, the angelic redneck fell asleep that way, and Rick eventually followed suit. 

They were still getting the hang of things, but right now this relationship seemed almost easy.


	7. Four Words To Choke Upon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came out a lot longer than I expected it to, so I hope you guys like it.   
> PLOT TWIST AT THE END.  
> Some violence/gore ahead. Not much.  
> As I said before, guess the song title that is being used as the chapter title and get mentioned in the notes of the new chapter.   
> Enjoy.

Rick awoke when the sunlight from Daryl’s window hit him square in the eyelids, causing him to dream of an explosion that blew up the entire prison and everyone in it. He gasped, and jerked forward, practically throwing Daryl off the bed in the process.

“What’s’a matter, man? Thought you loved me.” Daryl rolled onto his back on Rick’s lap to balance himself, and grinned cheekily up at Rick. 

Rick shook his head slightly, trying to clear the dream from his mind. “Sorry. Bad dream kinda startled me awake is all.”

“Y’alright?” Daryl reached up to pat Rick’s cheek affectionately, and Rick smiled at the gesture. Sure it was a bit odd, but at least Daryl was starting to be able to touch someone in a normal manner. 

“I’m fine, since I woke up to you.” Rick’s words couldn’t have been more true, and, even though they sounded cheesy, he hoped Daryl understood just how much he meant them. 

Daryl rolled his eyes, but his smile widened, and he sat up, planting a smacking kiss on Rick’s cheek. “Yeah, yeah, my face is the first thing ya wanna see in th’mornin’, isn’t it?” 

Rick, seizing the opportunity, turned his face just enough to catch Daryl’s lips with his own. “Damn right it is, you handsome hick.”

Both men fell into quiet laughter, smiling at each other as the sun lit their expressions into an angelic glow. The sound of a cell door opening made them freeze and pull apart immediately. Rick stood, making it seem like he had just come into Daryl’s cell for the first time that morning. 

Carol silently bounded up the stairs, then stopped short when she saw Rick standing in Daryl’s entryway. “Hi, Rick. What are you doing here so early?” She smiled awkwardly at the sheriff, trying to be polite though her question sounded rude.

“Woke up early. Was just telling Daryl I wanted him to stay on guard in the prison today. I could use the fresh air of a tower.” Rick rubbed the back of his neck, trying to return her smile as best he could. 

“Should I stay inside, too?” Carol, looking quite like a little mouse, peered up at Rick, her willingness to help blazing bright in her eyes. 

Rick shot a quick glance to Daryl, gauging the panic on his face. “Actually, it might be better if you stayed with the people from Woodbury, over in the next cell block. They seem more comfortable with you, anyway.” 

Carol’s face fell slightly, the disappointment evident in her features, but then she nodded and put the strained smile back in place on her cheeks. 

“Well, I’ve got t’give everyone else their assignments.” Rick started out of the cell, giving both Carol and Daryl a parting nod before clomping down the stairs to wake the others. Daryl smiled internally; Rick had all the gracefulness of a newborn foal.

Carol watched Rick go, making sure his back was to them before she slipped into Daryl’s cell and down onto the bed next to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze; she knew hugging him like she longed to was strictly off-limits. Daryl rubbed one eye sleepily as he looked at her, his smile faint. He reached up with his free hand and patted hers, eliciting a beaming grin from her.

“Did you get some rest last night?” She asked him tentatively, trying to keep the conversation light. 

“Yeah.” 

“Good.” She was obviously nervous about something, or had something on her mind, but she didn’t give any hint as to what that was. 

“Everythin’ a’right?” Daryl cocked an eyebrow at the small woman beside him. She nodded without looking at him.

“Yes, everything’s fine. I just wanted… to say good morning, is all.” Carol’s smile had lost its luster, and her eyes seemed far away from reality. Daryl had noticed her pause, and wondered if she had meant to say something other than ‘good morning,’ after all. “Well, I’ll, uh… let you wake up.” She rose from her seat on his mattress and turned to walk out the door, then suddenly she stopped. She turned just slightly, enough to look at Daryl, then swiftly leaned forward and kissed his cheek. She knew the gesture would probably get her in trouble, but she didn’t particularly care. She had loved him far too long to keep these boundaries in check; he had to know how she felt about him. She left him staring after her, his eyes wide with shock, and mistakingly thought that he had just fallen for her a little bit more.

~ ~ ~

Michonne wandered through the tombs, doing a monthly (or presumably monthly) breach check. She walked slowly, inspecting every nook and cranny, always following the paths the painted arrows pointed away from, so that she wouldn’t get lost. 

Her boots clicked against the stone floor as she walked, echoing around her in a sort of tuneless tattoo of music. She was more comfortable with her shoes being the only sound around her, anyway, since she wasn’t particularly fond of talking. 

The clacking came to a stop abruptly as she turned to see a dark hallway that appeared to have never been explored. There were no arrows painted on either side of the walls, and she thought she heard something coming from farther down the way. She pulled a pocket-sized flashlight from her belt, and shined it down the small corridor, darting it around over every surface it could touch. At first it settled on two walkers, feasting on the remains of what appeared to be a mother rat. Well, Michonne, being the badass that she was, could solve this problem quite easily. 

Michonne slowly made her way down the walkway, trying to be as silent as possible to as not to alert them to her presence, and unsheathed her katana in one swift movement. As she got closer, however, her flashlight beam revealed a cluster of at least ten walkers. She stopped dead in her tracks, still calculating the best way to take them out, until they noticed her. They groaned in unison, each one shifting towards her, and soon she could see the horde fully. Twenty walkers came barreling right at her, stumbling over themselves in their hunger. 

“Shit!” She shouted, turning and dashing back the way she had come. She could outrun one or two walkers, maybe even four or five; she had done it before, but this many could easily overcome her. She followed the arrows back to the group’s camp base, hoping that the twists and turns would confuse them. How had they managed to get in? And how long had they been there? The breach must have been fairly recent, but also damn huge to get that many geeks in that tunnel without anyone in the group having been harmed. 

Soon the loud groans of death faded from behind her, but she didn’t slow until she broke into the clustering of cells the ‘family’ called their own. Daryl was sitting in the middle of the staircase that led to his perch, along with the upper cells, cleaning his crossbow for the thousandth time. He heard her approaching before he saw her, and he leaped to his feet, pointing his weapon straight for where her head would be when she rounded the corner. Of course, Michonne was no more a threat to the group than the insects that never seemed to leave the kitchen, so when she came skidding in he dropped the crossbow down to his side.   
“Michonne, what-?” He began to say, but she cut her off.

“Walker horde from the tombs. At least twenty. Help.” She was slightly out of breathe, but even if she hadn’t been her reply would have been the same; even in a life or death situation she kept her words short and to the point. 

Daryl jumped over the five or so stairs that were underneath where he had been sitting, breaking into a run as soon as he hit the floor. “Glenn!” He shouted as he ran, certain that Glenn had heard everything and would follow along. He and Michonne took off for the tombs, both of them with weapons poised to kill.

Sure enough, Glenn had heard every word. He practically levitated off of the stool next to Maggie’s bedside, and grabbed the rifle standing in the corner beside the door way. Maggie began to get off the bed, but he turned and pushed her shoulder down. “Stay here!”

“Glenn, I should really-“

“No! Stay right there!” Glenn wasn’t about to risk her health, or her life, on a task he could easily complete with his two other compatriots. She would just have to suck it up. 

Reluctantly, she remained on the mattress, a pouty look on her lips. “Be careful!” She called out to him as he darted out the doorway and around the corner. Maggie sighed and bit her bottom lip, laying back on the bed, her hand rubbing absentmindedly over her stomach. 

Meanwhile, Glenn joined Michonne and Daryl by following the growls of the walkers they were killing. Daryl fired his last arrow right through the eye of one that had been coming straight for Michonne’s throat, and replaced his crossbow with the two knives he always carried on his belt. Michonne’s blade sliced the air with a soft whooshing sound, taking the heads off of two geeks, and splattering their blood and brain matter all over the walls and herself in the process. 

Glenn took in the scene before him, calculating the best move he could make. There were only about seven more walkers to contend with, a number that could easily be reduced without him. However, he was the only one who had brought a gun, and there was no telling how many had made their way through an unnoticed breach. 

“I’m going to draw the others out and make sure we clear this place for good.” He shouted over the groans and grunts, not expecting Daryl or Michonne to answer him; they would trust his judgment. Glenn raised his rifle and let the bullets fly, taking out three geeks with ease just as Daryl and Michonne killed off the last two in front of them. The hunter and huntress stopped to catch their breath, all three listening for the sound of more walkers coming their way. As they listened Daryl quickly gathered all of his arrows and re-aligned them in his crossbow. Other than the sound of their breathing there was silence in the tombs. 

Michonne breathed a quiet, almost inaudible, sigh of relief. Daryl wiped a few beads of sweat off of his brow. Glenn grumbled internally at missing most of the fight. They went through the areas where they had fought off the walkers, making sure that no brain was left intact, then leaned against the walls opposite each other to talk about what to do next. 

“Michonne, yer faster’n both of us. You should go git Rick. Tell ‘im what happened, and what we should do with the breach.” Daryl looked around at the blood and gore that bathed the walls as he spoke. “Glenn, help me git the bodies outta here so we can burn ‘em later.”

Michonne nodded curtly and sprinted back the way they’d come, leaving Glenn and Daryl to, essentially, clean up the mess.

Glenn and Daryl managed to clear out most of the corpses from the tombs out to the entryway, when Daryl said he was going to go through the pathways and make sure they hadn’t missed anything. Glenn nodded and continued dragging the rest of the geeks’ bodies out of the hallway. Glenn had just finished pulling out the last one, when he saw Maggie striding up to him.

“Maggie, I told you to stay back at the cells.” Glenn frowned at her, but the frown wasn’t fully angry, since he was tired from schlepping corpses around.  
“I know, but I have somethin’ I really need to tell you, and there’s no audience around us now.” Maggie’s eyes darted around the room and down the entry to the tombs; she looked completely terrified.

“Is everything okay?” Anger forgotten, he reached out for her, sliding her hands into his to comfort her. 

“Glenn…” Maggie started, but then stopped, trying to figure out how to proceed. She knew she just had to come right out and say it, but the words were trapped in her throat.

“Maggie, just say it. You know you can tell me anything.” Glenn tried to comfort his sort-of-wife with a gentle smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Her fear had him worried, too. 

She forced herself to look into his eyes, hold them with her own, and get out these four words to choke upon. “I think I’m pregnant.”

Neither of them knew that Daryl could hear Maggie’s confession clear as a bell as he rounded a corner off the entryway.


	8. Everything Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one wants to guess the song titles for my chapters? Alright whatever.
> 
> I'm too lazy and uncreative to think of a good breach that could lead to that many walkers from the last chapter, but they got it all fixed, so there you go. I wanted to write more Dick (Rickyl) fluff ok.

It was well after midnight, but Daryl was still awake. He stared out the window at the moon, so full and bright, and wondered which of his dead family members had made it to Heaven. Sophia certainly had; she was just a child, and Daryl knew enough about the Bible to know God allowed all children into His Kingdom. Lori was another possibility, though she hadn’t been the best of women in her lifetime. But Lori had a good heart, in the end, and he could definitely picture her in a white dress with two small angel wings flowing from behind her. He wondered about Merle. Had Merle’s last act of contrition been enough to offset his sins? Or was all of his insanity just too backlogged to do anything but condemn him? Well, Daryl would find out someday. 

From Rick’s cell came the faint sound of a baby’s whimper, and a soft cry. Daryl could hear Rick hushing her whines, and then there was silence once more. Judith was an easy baby, but everyone here had still had to learn to sleep through her occasional night-time fits. Daryl smiled, picturing the way the girl’s face pinched up when she cried. It was probably a horrible thing to laugh at, but even when she was upset she was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. 

The glow of happiness he had almost achieved by thinking of Lil’ Asskicker faded abruptly as Merle’s voice floated into his head. 

'Gone soft on me, eh, baby brotha? Well then you best not keep Rick a’waitin’ for your pansy ass to skitter on in there.'

Even in death Merle couldn’t leave him alone. No way was Merle in Heaven. Merle was a demon resurrected to torment Daryl for the rest of his life. Daryl sighed heavily, his eyes watering slightly. Just one night of peace from everything bad in this life, that was all he asked. 

Rick was gently rocking Judith back to sleep in his arms when Daryl’s silhouette appeared in the entryway to Rick’s cell. Rick looked up, almost surprised to see Daryl there, as if he never expected the redneck to come to him first. 

“Mind if I sit with ya for a bit?” Daryl shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a sure sign that he was nervous about something. 

“That’d be nice, actually. Judith doesn’t seem to wanna sleep tonight. Maybe you could help me get her back down.” Rick inched closer to the head of the bed to make room for Daryl, moving Judith from one arm to the other so that Daryl could take her easily. 

Daryl slipped his right arm underneath Rick’s, gently scooping up the little bundle of baby with the other hand, and sat beside the sheriff. 

“Hey, Lil’ Asskicker. You’re hyper tonight, huh?” Daryl placed a soft kiss on the little girl’s forehead, not noticing Rick’s proud smile. Under normal circumstances Daryl would have made an excellent father, and husband, no matter who he was with. .

Daryl lightly bounced Judith in her arms, eliciting a wide smile from the girl. She reached up with one hand as far as it would go, making her fingers open and close; she was reaching for Daryl. Daryl obliged, leaning forward so that she could pat his cheek with her little palm, and laughed when she cooed at him. 

“I think she likes you more than me now.” Rick tried to keep his tone light, but Daryl could hear the sorrow in it. As if to correct him, Judith turned her head to look at her father, and reached her other arm out for him. Rick placed his face next to Daryl’s, and Judith instantly placed her palm on his cheek. She laughed and made happy little kicks with her feet. These two men were all the family she needed now; they were her entire world, and she accepted them just as they were.

Rick and Daryl’s cheeks were touching, and they peered at each other from the corners of their eyes, both of them grinning like fools. 

In a few minutes Judith yawned, and closed her eyes, falling asleep with her hands still touching her family’s faces. Daryl placed her back into her crib, tucking the blanket around her.

Rick and Daryl sat in silence for a while, just watching Judith sleep, neither one knowing what to say. Rick was the one to break the silence. 

“What brings y’here tonight, Daryl?” Rick’s tone was conversational, but his curiosity echoed through his voice. 

Daryl shrugged, not wanting to seem weak in front of the man he loved. “Just needed the comp’ny is all.” He slipped his hand into Rick’s nonchalantly, as if they’d been holding hands the whole time. Rick didn’t say anything, just gave Daryl’s fingers a light squeeze; he knew there was more that Daryl wanted to say, but he’d let him get it out in his own time. 

“Well, there’s some stuff I gotta talk to ya ‘bout, too.” Daryl tacked this onto the end of a semi-awkward silence. 

“What’s wrong?” Rick moved so that his back was against the bunk’s metal post, bringing one leg up onto the bed and putting it into a half cross-legged position. He held his free arm out to Daryl, an invitation to come sit against him. 

Daryl stared at Rick for one long moment, and Rick was afraid he would move away or leave or reject him in some other way, but then Daryl sighed and scooted over on the mattress until his back was against Rick’s chest, his head leaned back against his shoulder. Rick smiled and wrapped his arm around Daryl’s waist, linking their hands together from both sides. Daryl huffed, but didn’t move away, so Rick figured this was alright, at least for now; anything more might be pushing it, though. 

“Was thinkin’ ‘bout Merle, before I came in here. Wonderin’ if he was up in Heaven or down in Hell now.” Daryl managed to clear the tears from his throat before he said this, but as soon as he finished them slid right back into place. He couldn’t cry in front of Rick. Rick would think he was a weak man, and if Rick thought he was weak he wouldn’t love him anymore; Daryl couldn’t lose anyone else.

Rick brought a hand up to brush Daryl’s bangs from his forehead, pushing them behind his ear, then continuing to run his fingers through the soft strands. Daryl thought the gesture was a little mushy, but he wasn’t about to complain; it felt too good to complain. Rick stayed silent, waiting for Daryl to get everything off his chest. 

“I never really had no family before, Rick. Ever’one else in my life hurt me, ya know? An’ I know I push y’all away a lot, but I really… really love you guys. ‘Specially you, Rick. I love you most’v all. Feels like I’ma lose you if I make a wrong move.” Daryl couldn’t stop the tears from falling now. He had let his hard exterior chip loose now, and he didn’t know where those pieces were going to fall. He felt weak, like a little pussy, like everything Merle or his father had ever called him in life. This was a mistake, coming to Rick’s tonight, and Daryl wished he could just go back in time and stay in his perch like he did every other night. He was going to fuck things up again, just like he always did. 

“Shh, don’t say things like that.” Rick’s heart broke hearing Daryl cry. Daryl was always so reserved that seeing him without his wall up like this was humbling. Rick kissed Daryl’s hair, his forehead, his cheek, over and over again until his crying stopped, and then he kissed the drying tears from his face. “Daryl, you’re never gonna lose me. I promise.” Rick cupped Daryl’s chin firmly, making the other man look at him, and then kissed him tenderly and as full of love as he possibly could. He could feel Daryl start to cry again as his kissed Rick back, but Rick didn’t move his lips away. Daryl needed this moment, needed this kiss, needed to feel loved and wanted and needed, because that’s everything he was. 

Daryl’s self-loathing stopped as soon as his and Rick’s lips met, but he cried anyway, cried from the love that filled his chest. He reached up and wound his fingers through Rick’s dark, curly hair, holding him in place so that he couldn’t pull away unless Daryl wanted him to; Rick didn’t seem to mind this development. Rick wrapped his arm around Daryl’s waist and lifted his body enough to turn him so that their chests were touching. They each took a moment to adjust their positions, making themselves more comfortable, their lips never parting. 

Daryl was wearing his poncho; he usually wore it at night because it was comfortable and warm. Rick pushed the fabric of the poncho up just enough to run his fingers over Daryl’s defined abdomen, making Daryl’s breath catch in his throat. Kissing Rick was one thing, one wonderful thing, but was Daryl ready for anything more?

Before they could find out, the sound of a cell door slowly opening downstairs made them both freeze, eyes shooting open. They pulled apart instantly, both pairs of eyes on the stairway beside them. Carol was making her way quietly up the stairs, clearly headed for Daryl’s perch, and she appeared to be shaking. 

“Shit. She must’ve had a nightmare. If I’m not there to comfort her…” Daryl let his whispered sentence trail off. He wanted to stay here with Rick, making out and talking all night long, but he also wanted to make sure Carol was alright. When he looked back toward the stairs, Carol was wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand; she had been crying. Daryl could feel his stomach clench painfully at the confliction. 

“It’s a’right, Daryl. Go be with Carol.” Rick gave Daryl a slight nudge toward the door, wearing a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. 

“I would, but… but I can’t. I still gotta talk to you.” Daryl climbed over Rick and flattened himself against the wall beside the bed, making himself one with the shadows. Rick watched Carol stop in the entryway to Daryl’s cell, her entire body seeming to slump when she didn’t find him there like she normally did. He could hear quiet sobs echoing from her small body, tremors wracking her entire frame. Daryl’s hand abruptly shot out and gripped Rick’s tightly, almost painfully; this was killing him inside. Soon enough Carol quieted down, but instead of walking back down the stairs, she went inside Daryl’s cell, and curled up on his bed. Daryl’s scent, lingering on the sheets and pillows, would have to be her comfort tonight.

“I think she’s sleepin’ in your bed.” Rick mumbled, looking over at Daryl.

“Tha’s a’right. She deserves that much.” Daryl grumbled, frowning at himself. He didn’t want to hurt her, but now he had just by not being there when she needed him. 

Rick laid back on the bed, turning to face Daryl, and brought his hand up to kiss it. “What d’you need to talk to me about?”

Daryl’s eyes widened slightly, wondering how he could word what he needed to say so that it didn’t sound so bad. “Well, today when we were clearin’ out the tombs, I was goin’ through an’ checkin’ everything, makin’ sure we hadn’t missed any walkers. Everythin’ appeared a’right, so I came back aroun’ to the entrance. I was ‘bout to swing a right back into the main hallway, when I heard Maggie’s voice echoin’ from outside. Normally I wouldn’t care ‘bout interuptin’ the lovebirds, but she… she said she was pregnant, Rick.” Daryl looked up now, right into Rick’s eyes. 

Rick’s entire expression went blank, and his hand fell slack in Daryl’s. He didn’t need this right now, none of them did. They already had Judith to deal with, not that anyone would ever call her a burden, and there was no way they’d be able to care for another infant. 

“Rick?” Daryl shook the sheriff gently, trying to get some kind of response out of him. “Rick, talk to me, man.”

Rick blinked his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I don’t think we should let ‘em know that we know, least not yet.”

Rick just nodded at Daryl’s suggestion, his expression just slightly blank.

“Rick, what’s’a matter?” Daryl was really starting to get worried now; he was starting to think that he shouldn’t have told Rick about this yet. 

“I’ve stopped seeing Lori, Daryl.”

“Huh?”

“Lori’s ghost or whatever it is. I’ve stopped seeing it – her. I’m afraid… afraid that she doesn’t accept us being together, Daryl. And now Maggie’s this tickin’ timebomb. What’re we gonna do ‘bout food for that kid, Daryl? I just don’t know what to do anymore.” Rick shifted himself, lying flat on the mattress, and his hand slipped from Daryl’s completely.

“We kin figure out what to do ‘bout Mags later. When did you stop seein’ Lori?” Daryl picked Rick’s hand up once more, lacing their fingers together so that Rick wouldn’t be able to slip away this time. 

“Couple weeks ago. Right around the time I started thinkin’ ‘bout tellin’ you I love you.” Rick’s blank eyes stared up at the ceiling, the tears pooling in them making them look like tumultuous oceans. Daryl didn’t know what to do in a situation like this, so he just squeezed Rick’s hand and wiped the tears away with his thumb. 

“That’s nothin’ but coincidence, ya hear me?” Daryl kissed Rick’s forehead, hoping to calm him like he had calmed Daryl. 

Rick took a deep breath and closed his eyes once more. When he opened them again he focused them on Daryl. “You’re right. Prolly is just coincidence. I just worry sometimes ‘bout what she thinks of me now.”

“I know how ya feel.” Daryl broke eye contact with Rick, choosing instead to look at their locked hands, when suddenly Rick’s lips were at his cheek.

“Thank you.”

“Fer what?”

“Bein’ here, with me.”

Daryl shrugged before answering. “Not a problem. Thanks fer bein’ there for me when I needed to cry earlier.”

Rick smiled and patted Daryl’s cheek just as Judith had done. “Not a problem.”

Daryl couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward and kissed Rick again, on the lips this time. After another quick makeout session, Daryl settled in beside Rick, pressed into his side with Rick’s arm around his shoulders. 

‘Everything changes,’ Daryl thought, as he began to drift off to sleep, ‘but our love will stay the same.’


	9. Give Me A Sign

It was still mostly dark outside when Rick and Daryl woke up beside each other. Rick smiled, feeling Daryl in his arms, and Daryl rolled his eyes at Rick’s mushiness, but rested his head on the ex-cop’s chest anyway.

“Still got a few hours ‘fore anyone else is awake.” Rick mused, tracing swirls into Daryl’s shoulder.

Daryl’s eyes had slipped closed once more, though he had no intention of going back to sleep. His body was ready to start the day, even at such an ungodly hour. “Mm-hmm.” He murmured back, not wanting to bother with a real reply. He smirked as he felt Rick’s lips press into his hair, stifling a chuckle. “Hopin’ for another make-out session, huh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to one.” Rick laughed softly, the gentle movement rocking Daryl’s head in a not-unpleasant way. 

Daryl didn’t need any more encouragement. He raised himself up so that he was level with Rick and leaned down, closing every inch of distance between them, kissing Rick with such a passion it took both their breaths away. Rick was surprised at Daryl’s enthusiasm; the angelic redneck wasn’t usually one to act so… well, so recklessly, for lack of a better term. After their bonding the night before, Daryl’s walls had, for the most part, been torn down, and he didn’t feel so awkward around Rick now. But as much as Daryl wanted to take things further, his subconscious wouldn’t let him have this moment of peace. He could hear Carol’s quiet sobs in his ears, and his lips fell slack against Rick’s.

Rick pulled back to look at Daryl. “What’s wrong?” Seemed like they’d both been saying that to each other a lot lately. 

“I just remembered Carol. I didn’t wanna hurt her, leave her hangin’ like that, ya know? So know she’s prolly all alone in my perch, sleepin’ fitfully, ‘cause I couldn’t be there to comfort her.” Daryl’s blue eyes resonated the sorrow he felt inside, and Rick’s heart broke again just looking at them. Daryl was too sweet for his own good; if he couldn’t help someone he cared about it killed him inside.

Rick brushed his fingers through Daryl’s soft hair, trying to comfort him. “I bet she’s still in your bed. Go slip in there now. Hold her ‘til she wakes up or somethin’.”

Daryl nodded, grateful to Rick for being so understanding, and pecked his love’s lips once more before darting out of Rick’s cell and back to his own. 

Carol was curled into a tight ball on his mattress, almost like a kitten, and she faced the wall. She was shivering in her dreams, which meant she was either cold, but not cold enough to wake up, or she was having another nightmare. Daryl’s stomach clenched up seeing her like this, guilt pulling him under and drowning him. He slid into bed beside her, pulling the blankets over both of them, and gently wrapped an arm around her shaking form. He would hold her like this until she woke up; he owed her that much. Carol had given him so much hope, so much love, and he felt like he was betraying her every time he kissed Rick. She would have understood, though, wouldn’t she? He was happy with Rick, and she cared about his happiness, didn’t she? If that was the case, then why did he feel like jumping out of that window next to his bed?

It was a few hours before Carol woke up. Daryl marked the time by the way the light on the wall gradually changed from pre-dawn pink to the light yellow of morning. After a little while she had warmed enough to uncurl herself, and she leaned back into Daryl’s embrace; even subconsciously her body could feel when he was near, and responded accordingly. 

Daryl watched as she blinked her eyes open, her long eyelashes fluttering in a way that made his heart ache for not being able to love her. “Good morning.” He managed to choke out, his voice a mangled whisper.

Carol’s eyes were suddenly wide open, and she turned to face him, the smile that lit up her face practically a stab to Daryl’s gut. She kissed his cheek, causing them both to blush. “Good morning. Listen, I’m sorry that I just came in and slept in your bed last night. I just… had a really bad dream, and you said I could come spend the night with you sometimes when that happened, but when I came up you weren’t here, so I-”

Daryl shushed her by pressing his finger lightly to her lips. “Carol, it’s okay, I understand. I’m not upset with you or anything.” He was somehow able to give her a genuine smile, and she blushed once more, grinning as she looked up at him through those perfect lashes. 

“Thank you, Daryl. You’ve helped me so much lately, with these nightmares and everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Carol bit her lip for a moment, contemplating on whether or not she should put her thoughts into actions. ‘Screw it’ she thought, and abruptly pressed her lips to his. She was gentle about it, and pulled away after a few seconds. Daryl’s eyes were wide with shock and… pain? Could she have been seeing that right? The look in those blue seas were rejection enough, and Carol instantly felt like a fool.

Carol untangled herself from Daryl’s arm and blankets, and hustled out of his cell, throwing a whispered “I’m sorry!” over her shoulder as she exited. Rick watched her rush down the stairs back to her own cell, saw the tears rolling down her cheeks in torrents. He didn’t know what had happened, but he knew it couldn’t have been good. As soon as he heard her cell door quietly slipping closed again, Rick silently made his way to Daryl’s cell. 

“Daryl? What happened? Is everything alright?” Rick whispered, his tone worried as he peered over Daryl’s side to look into his face. The pain in Daryl’s eyes had Rick on his knees beside the mattress, his arm draped over Daryl’s body. 

“She kissed me, Rick. She kissed me with so much love and tenderness… and I couldn’t kiss her back, man. I just left her hangin’ with her lips on mine, and then when she looked into my eyes I couldn’t hide the pain. And I was in pain ‘cause I knew I couldn’t return her love, you know? And I knew that she’d be so damn hurt by me, and this wave a guilt just crashed down on me, ‘cause I betrayed her, ya know? I mean, this whole time she’s been sendin’ me the signals, and fallin’ for me, and everythin’, and I could never send ‘em back, and I’ve just been leadin’ ‘er on, and now I made her cry again.” Daryl cried for the second time in twelve hours. He couldn’t handle hurting someone he cared about so deeply this way. He never wanted to lead her on, he just wanted to be her friend, her best friend, because that’s what he needed, too. Why did she have to go and fall in love with him like that? What did he even do to make her develop feelings for him? In Daryl’s self-loathing opinion, no one should love him, not even Rick, and especially not Carol; he wasn’t good enough for anybody, he was just a backwoods hick. 

Rick didn’t know what to say to make Daryl feel better. Frankly, there was nothing he could say. Daryl wouldn’t listen to any of his reassurances, because Daryl couldn’t make himself believe they were true, whether they were or not. So he did the only thing he could do: he ran his fingers through Daryl’s hair and held him as tightly as he could without hurting him. 

Eventually Daryl sniffed away the tears and sighed, tapping Rick’s arm to let him know he was alright. Rick released him, turning Daryl on his back so that he could get a good look at the man. Daryl was able to meet his eyes, but they had lost the life they’d had the night before. 

“I’ll be a’right, Rick. Just gotta git to workin’, and I’ll be right as rain.” Daryl pushed Rick away just enough to be able to swing his legs over the side of the bed without kicking the sheriff in the face or chest, and stretched his arms out behind him. 

“Well… Guess I could use ya in the prison yard today. You can take area over by the main gate. I’ll be over in the field. We’ll have Carol up in the guard tower. She’s a good shot, and I’d rather her be out there than Maggie right now. You alright with that?”

Daryl thought for a second, knowing that Carol’s eyes would be on him more than they’d be on the road, but he nodded anyway; if that’s what Rick said he needed then Daryl would do that for him. 

~ ~ ~

Rick wandered aimlessly around the field where they had buried their dead, where the Governor had released the van of walkers, where he had always seen Lori in her Heavenly white dress. He kept one arm out to touch the tips of the grass as he walked. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, except for Daryl, maybe, but he only wanted to be in this area today because he wanted to see Lori again.

“Give me a sign, Lori. Just one sign that you don’t hate me for what I am now.” He shook he head as he spoke, feeling more insane by the second. Her apparition had been all in his head, and now it was gone because… why? Because he’d finally gotten some sanity back? Because he didn’t love her as much as he thought he did anymore?

Rick sighed, closing his eyes as he bowed his head and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the strands slightly. He was an idiot for doing this, a crazy old fool, and he would never see her again because she was in Heaven now, not haunting the prison. Lori was dead and buried in the yard, and she was never coming back. 

Much as he tried to stifle them, tears slipped from his eyes down his cheeks. Someone brushed his tears away with their thumb, one of their hands coming down to cup his jawline, the other resting on his shoulder.

Rick, eyes still closed, couldn’t help but chuckle. “Daryl. How’d you know I was crying over here, huh?” 

Daryl didn’t reply, and Rick opened his eyes. But it wasn’t Daryl who greeted him, it was Lori. Her dark brown hair cascaded over the shoulders, the ends waving over her skin. She wore a dress of the purest white Rick had ever seen. Its straps tied behind her neck, then spilled over her collarbones to cover her chest, and flowed into a waterfall of perfection that never seemed to end; Rick could swear the dress’s train went right through the ground and into eternity. The sunlight shined down on her perfectly, illuminating her beauty with an angelic glow. 

“Lori.” Rick whispered, the tears streaming down his face again. His wife smiled at him as she wiped his tears once more. “What are you doing here?”

“You asked me for a sign, Rick, so I came to give you one.” Lori paused momentarily to stroke Rick’s cheek with the back of her hand before continuing. “I want you to know that I accept you, and I will always love you, no matter who you choose to be with. I just want you to be happy, love. And if being with Daryl will make you happy, then be with him. Daryl’s a good man, and he’ll take care of you. He won’t break your heart, and I know you won’t break his.”

“I… Thank you, Lori. I just need him so much lately. I don’t even know why.” Rick shook his head, feeling like he needed to explain himself, even though she had just said she didn’t care who he was with, basically. 

“Shh, shh, I know, baby. Daryl needs you, too, more than you know. But, Rick, this is the last time I can come see you, at least while you’re alive.” Lori’s smile faded and sadness seeped into her eyes.

Rick couldn’t comprehend what she had just said for a moment, and then it all clicked into place. “Are you saying that this is… goodbye?” He had to swallow around the lump in his throat to get that last word out, feeling like he was going to choke on his words.

Lori nodded instead of just saying yes. She shifted onto her tip-toes to reach Rick’s lips, cupping his face in both of her hands as she kissed him with as much love as she possibly could. Rick wrapped his arms around her, kissing her back through his tears, not wanting her to leave again. Soon, though, she pulled away from him, her thumbs rubbing circles into his cheeks, her smile melancholy. The moment was so bittersweet; he as now free to be with Daryl, never having to worry about whether or not Lori was disgusted by him, but he would never see her beautiful, angelic apparition again. 

“Goodbye, Rick.” Lori whispered, but Rick could hear her as clearly as he could see the sun shining, and then she faded away, back into the air and the light and wherever else she had come from. 

“No, no, no.” Rick repeated, making the word into an agonizing mantra. He stumbled around in the grass, turning in circles as he searched for her; he would settle for the flow of her dress, or a parting wave of her hair if he had to, but he couldn’t just stand there in that field with nothing. “Lori.” He whispered her name, tears tracking twin waterfalls down his cheeks. He collapsed to his knees in the dirt, bringing his hands up to his eyes and sobbing into them as he fell forward into the earth. He had lost her again, and his heart was being ripped apart all over again. 

Daryl, who just happened to have turned in the direction of the field, saw Rick go down in the tall grass. Daryl shifted into survival mode; after all, it could have been a bullet that hit Rick just now; they probably wouldn’t have heard a silencer from that far away. He sprinted over to the field, making a beeline for the spot where he saw Rick fall. Daryl could hear Rick’s sobs as he approached, and he slowed to a jog so as not to scare the broken man who lay before him.

Daryl dropped to his knees beside Rick, placing one hand on the sheriff’s spine and rubbing his back in a somewhat comforting manner. “Rick, what happened? You alright, man? Are you shot? Is there a snake?” Daryl compulsively looked at the ground around them, searching for any kind of venomous reptile that could have caused this kind of a reaction from Rick. 

Rick lifted himself up so that he wasn’t face-down on the floor anymore, and looked at Daryl. “I saw Lori again, Daryl. She said she accepted me, accepted us. Called you a good man. But then she said that… she said goodbye. I’m never gonna see her again while I’m alive, Daryl.” Rick shifted, pulling himself toward Daryl and letting his forehead drop onto the redneck’s shoulder, Rick’s tears soaking through Daryl’s angel-wing vest. 

Daryl tentatively wrapped his arm around Rick’s shoulders, patting and rubbing his back. “It’s alright, Rick. She said she accepts you, man. That’s a good thing. Now you don’t gotta worry ‘bout what she thinks ‘bout us bein’ together. You’re gonna see her again someday, Rick, when you’re both up in Heaven in the next twenty years ‘r so.”

Rick’s cries calmed, and he nodded against Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl was right, of course. This was a good thing. They were finally free to be together without anything hanging over their heads… well, other than no one else in the group knowing, that is. 

Daryl stood, helping Rick to his feet in the process, and wrapped the sheriff in a tight hug. “It’ll be a’right, man, you hear me?” Daryl pulled back and cupped Rick’s face in hands, just as Lori had done, making sure Rick met his eyes.

Rick nodded and gave Daryl a small smile. Daryl smiled back, and leaned forward to press his lips to Rick’s quickly. “Let’s go back to the yard, Rick. This place seems covered.” He clasped Rick’s hand in his own as they walked back to their cell block. 

Meanwhile, Carol, who had seen Daryl run to Rick’s aid, was having trouble controlling the hurt she felt inside. Her eyes watered, causing her vision to blur, and knew she couldn’t stay on watch like this. She climbed down from the tower, looking around the yard for someone to take her place. Carl sat on a bench, soaking up the bright sun and fresh air. He would do just fine.

“Carl, would you mind taking watch for me? I, uh... got something in my eye, and I need to go try to splash it out with some water.” Even Carol thought her lie sounded pathetic, but she was desperate now.

Carl gave her a bit of an odd look, but then shrugged and reached out for her gun. She handed to him without a moment’s hesitation, then ran for the door to their cell block and didn’t look back. Carl slung the gun over his shoulder and climbed up the tower, wondering what had made Carol so upset. He turned in a semi-circle, searching for anything that seemed out of place, when his eyes landed on Daryl with his father. They were hugging, and then they were… kissing? That couldn’t have been right, but it was. Carl’s eyes widened in shock as Daryl and Rick linked hands, walking back to the prison together like they were a couple.


	10. Truth Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is shorter than a few of my most recent chapters, but I hope you don't mind that too much. I was having a lot of trouble writing this one for some reason. Kinda just wanted to get it done so I could move past it to the bigger pictures, if you will.  
> Regardless, enjoy.

The next ten days were some of the most peaceful the group had ever had. 

Judith said her first word one morning when Carol was changing her. With a bright smile she opened and closed her fingers and said “dada.” Carol, her own smile beaming with bittersweet joy, rushed over to Rick, who was talking to Daryl at the time about setting up a run to get some sports equipment. As soon as Judith was in her father’s arms she looked up at him and said again, “dada.” After a few hours, though, the word changed from “dada” to “dar dar,” as if she had really been trying to say ‘Daryl’ the whole time. Judith then fluctuated between saying both words, directing them at the appropriate person, as well; she was already a genius. 

Michonne found a stray tabby cat out in the field on an afternoon when she was on patrol outside. The orange kitty bounded right up to her without any fear, pawing at her boot, and looking up at her with bright green eyes that couldn’t be resisted by anyone. The cat had no bite or scratch marks, and so Rick said that it could stay in the prison with them for the time being. The cat made meals out of whatever scraps were thrown its way and the mice and rats that were always lurking in the tombs. Daryl jokingly called the cat Fluffers when he was scratching it’s head the day Michonne brought it in, and soon enough the name stuck. Carl was thrilled to have something to play with when he got bored, and managed to scrounge up some thread, which he tied to a stick for the cat to chase. 

Glenn and Maggie even decided that it was the wise choice to tell the group about Maggie’s possible pregnancy. There were some gasps around the circle that night, and furtive glances were thrown at both Rick and Judith, but after about an hour everyone lapsed into celebration. Rick, supportive as ever, said he would do whatever was necessary to make sure that both mother and child had a safe and successful birth, and keep them both strong before and after. Hershel patted Glenn on the back, saying that even under the circumstances he was glad to finally be getting some grandchildren, which made Maggie blush and smack his stump, a grin present on her face.

The only one not in high spirits was Carol. She barely looked at Daryl, at least as much as the rules of common decency allowed, and her nightmares had only gotten worse. She didn’t sleep very well, and not all that much, for that matter, and it showed on her face. Her cheeks were starting to get that sunken-in look, and dark circles formed under her eyes. Her internal monologue was one long string of self-loathing sentiments, and every day she felt more and more foolish for having kissed Daryl, or loved him at all. She should have realized sooner that he didn’t want her, but she’d deluded herself into thinking that their feelings were mutual, and now she’s was torn up about it. 

On that tenth night, the group sat around their small indoor campfire, Beth’s voice resonating through the prison like an angel’s. Rick and Daryl sat apart from everyone else, as usual, choosing to perch on the staircase together instead; besides, they got all the warmth they needed from each other. Daryl had his crossbow laid aside, for once, with Fluffers taking its place in his arms. The cat purred contentedly as Daryl stroked its back, its eyes slipping closed and staying that way. No one noticed the way Carl kept looking at the two men, nor did they pay any attention to him as he left the circle. Carl had been leaving the group to “spend time with Judith” lately. He did go visit Judith, and he did sit there for a long amount of time, but he was really thinking of how he could confront his father about what he’d seen. 

That night Carl sauntered away from the group, but instead of making his way toward Judith’s box, which they now kept downstairs so that they could include her in their nighttime bonding, he made a beeline for the stairs. 

Rick looked up from watching Daryl pet Fluffers and smiled at Carl. “Hey, kiddo.”

Carl swallowed his nervousness, pushing the words out of his throat. “Dad, can we talk for a second, in private?” He nodded toward Rick’s cell upstairs. 

Rick, confused by his son’s request, nodded and stood, moving out of the way to let Carl pass him. Carl stepped awkwardly around his father, his thoughts a tornado of confusion in his head. He’d gotten this far, but now what would he say?

Carl sat down on the edge of his father’s mattress, and Rick joined him there, the tension between them almost a living thing. 

“What’s on your mind, Carl?” Rick figured he should probably try and start the conversation with a light tone; better safe than sorry, anyway. 

Carl chewed his lip for a moment, still figuring out the best way to word his thoughts. In the end, though, none of that mattered, because he ended up blurting out, “I saw you and Daryl kiss, dad, and then saw you two holding hands as you walked through the field. What’s going on?”

The blood drained from Rick’s face, his veins freezing to ice. He didn’t think anyone had seen his and Daryl’s private moment, least of all Carl. Of course, this would have been awkward with anyone, but with his son it was like the pits of his own personal hell had opened and swallowed him whole. He didn’t want to go through this, not now, not like this. He wanted to sit Carl down and talk to him man-to-man, months from now. Life never did give you what you wanted.

Carl was patient, watching the emotions play out on Rick’s face as he waited for an answer. After about three minutes, though, he worried that his dad was trying to think of a suitable lie to tell him. “I just want the truth, dad.”

“Truth hurts, kid.” Daryl appeared in the entryway, causing both Carl and Rick to look up. He’d heard their conversation from the stairs, his sonic ears picking up their hushed words, even over Beth’s singing. 

Rick looked almost relieved to have some back-up on this issue, and he patted the space next to him for Daryl to sit down. Daryl obliged him, turning to face Carl full-on.   
“Listen, Carl, truth is we’re kinda… a couple now. Not like we meant fer it to happen, it just sorta fell inta place. But I’ll be up front with ya: I love Rick. He keeps me steady in this fucked up world a’ ours.” Daryl inconspicuously covered Rick’s hand with his own, giving it a light, comforting pat.

Rick had managed to find his voice by that time, and he met Carl’s eyes. “It’s a’right if you don’t understand right away. This ain’t the way I wanted you to find out, anyway.”  
“What about mom, Dad? Don’t you miss her at all? What would she think of this?” Carl glared at both of them. He wasn’t sure how to take this whole thing, so he ended up snapping at his family. 

“Course I miss Lori. Every damn day I think about her. But I think she’d accept me, even now. I think she wants me to be happy, wherever I can find happiness, Carl. Look, I’m not askin’ for you to immediately get over your mom and be okay with this. I just… I just want you to accept me, Carl. Don’t hate me just ‘cause I’m choosin’ Daryl over one a’ the ladies in our group.” Rick reached out to rest his hand on Carl’s shoulder, but Carl shrugged away and stood up. 

“I’ll have to think about this for a while. I need some time to put away the mem’ries of you and mom.” Carl kept his head bowed, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“Take all the time you need.” Rick’s voice was whispered, the lump in his throat making it too difficult to speak normally. As Carl left, tears brimmed in Rick’s eyes. He lifted his hands up to his face, pressing his palms to his eyes to keep the waters back, and sighed heavily. He understood that this would probably be hard for Carl to deal with, he was just afraid that Carl would start giving him the cold shoulder until one of them died, and he wasn’t sure he could handle that. 

Daryl, who had remained mostly quiet and merely fidgeted with the hem of his vest, spoke up now. “Kid’s gonna come ‘round soon enough, Rick. You’ll see.” Daryl wrapped an arm awkwardly around Rick’s waist; it wasn’t an ideal position, but with his hands up to his face it was probably a better bet than the shoulders. 

“I hope so.” Rick mumbled, flopping back on the bed beside Daryl. 

“Want me to stay with ya tonight?”

“Nah, that’s alright. Kinda wanna just be alone with my thoughts right now.”

Daryl gave Rick’s abdomen a parting pat before he slipped out of Rick’s cell to go to his own perch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried really hard to not make Carl sound like a homophobe ok.   
> It's not that he doesn't accept gays, it's just that he's conflicted about his father being gay, you know? 'Cause he did have a mom after all.  
> So I hope I did alright with that.


	11. Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've said, I'm naming my chapters with song titles.  
> This time I've decided to use a song that I felt had lyrics that were significant to the chapter. Specifically these lyrics: "The water's up to my knees... My engine's runnin' on dry, my head's so fucked up inside." Just so you all know, since the title itself has no meaning to the story.   
> Enjoy.

Rick lay awake on his bunk, staring up at the metal bars holding the mattress above him, and sighed heavily, rubbing his hands over his face as he usually did when he was trying to think something through. 

He ran through the night’s events in his head for what felt like the hundredth time, trying to figure out where things had fallen apart. 

One by one, the group circled around their makeshift campfire, with Rick and Daryl opting for the stairs. When no one was looking, Rick laid his hand over Daryl’s, to which Daryl responded by turning his hand palm up and clasping the sheriff’s fingers lovingly. They stayed that way for at least half an hour, just enjoying each other’s company as the others discussed the day’s events. Rick noticed the way Glenn and Maggie shared a meaningful glance, and then they both rose to their feet, making sure that they would be the center of attention. 

“Glenn ‘n’ I have somethin’ we need to tell y’all.” Maggie’s eyes darted around the loose circle nervously, a blush rising to her cheeks as everyone stared at her. Glenn took her hand, giving it a squeeze, and Daryl had nudged Rick with his shoulder; they were fairly certain they knew what was about to be said. 

“As I’m sure you all know, Maggie has been ill these past few days, but she really only gets sick around when the morning starts.” Glenn began, looking over at his sort-of-wife to “pass the torch” to her. 

“My period’s late, too.” Maggie was clearly uncomfortable saying that around her father, but she pressed on, anyway. “I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.”

The group had gasped, everyone exchanging glances of worry. All heads turned to look at Judith in her ‘Lil Asskicker’ box, stacked on old crates a few feet away from the rest of them, then shifted toward Rick. Rick raised his hands up in surrender, leaning back against the stairs with a shake of his head; he wanted no part of this right now. 

Carol was the one to break the uncomfortable silence the group had lapsed into. “Are you sure that you’re pregnant? Maybe you really are just sick?” Carol had been a mother, and of course she knew the signs of pregnancy, but she knew that everyone else needed the certainty. 

Maggie nodded, averting her eyes from everyone else’s. “I know what a baby does to a woman’s body.”

Another intake of breath could be heard from almost everyone, and then Hershel grabbed his crutches, hauling himself onto his good leg. He moved the few inches over to where Glenn stood, placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze. “Now I’m not too keen on the idea of another mouth to worry about feeding, but even so I am happy to finally be getting some grandchildren. Never thought I’d get to be a grandfather. This baby is something to be celebrated.”

Slowly the group came to this conclusion, as well, and soon everyone was nodding and giving the couple their congratulations. 

Rick had stood, clearing his throat to get their attention. “Now I don’t want what happened to Lori to happen to Maggie, too. Can’t afford to lose anyone else around here. I’ll do everythin’ I can to ensure the safe delivery of the child for both baby and mother, as well as keep them both safe after the birth. We’ll probably need to get some vitamins and what not within the next month or two, so Daryl and I will make a run soon to get ‘em.” He glanced down at Daryl, making sure that what he said was alright with the redneck, and smiled when Daryl nodded his consent. 

Maggie and Glenn gave Rick, and the rest, their thanks, then Beth started singing an upbeat song. As she sang, Fluffers had sauntered over to the stairs and hopped up beside Daryl, pawing at his leg and meowing to be picked up. Daryl obliged the cat, lifting it into his arms so that he could stroke its fur. 

At that moment everything had been perfect. Rick and Daryl were together, the rest of their family celebrating the growth of the group, and Rick had been smiling so genuinely he thought that his lips would be frozen in that position permanently. But then Carl had come over, and everything had fallen apart. 

“Dammit,” Rick swore as he pictured Carl’s face when he’d learned the truth. The shock, the way his heart seemed to break right in front of their eyes, the way you could practically see Lori’s memory flashing in his pupils, tore Rick’s heart into pieces. Why couldn’t he have his angel and still keep his son? Not that Carl had come right out and said that he hated Rick or anything that drastic; Rick just felt like that’s what his son’s eyes were saying. 

The lyrics of some forgotten song floated in Rick’s head, describing just how he felt: “The water’s up to my knees… My engine’s runnin’ on dry, my head’s so fucked up inside.” A rueful grin came to Rick’s lips, a dark and humorless chuckle escaping his throat. He was so ready to give up now; Daryl was the only thing keeping him going lately. 

Rick sighed once more, opting to make a plan rather than continue wallowing in hatred and self-loathing. He had been wanting to go on a run to get some soccer balls, or some other type of sports equipment, to help relieve the boredom around the prison, so he and Daryl could just add pre-natal vitamins to the list and make the trip a bit longer than originally expected. Couldn’t hurt to stock up on more food while they were out, too, and maybe a pack of cards, if they could scrounge one up. They could head up to King County, visit that baby store Lori’s friend had run, see what they could gather for the new baby, too, just in case they didn’t have much chance to do so when the time actually came. Rick wondered how Morgan had been doing lately, anyway, so they could probably stop by his little fortress, also. Rick’s old town was a bit of a drive from the prison, but that just gave him and Daryl more time together, and alone time was definitely something they could use more of. 

As for Carl, Rick would just stay out of the kid’s hair for a while, let him come to terms with Rick’s new love in his own time. After all, they had plenty of time, since they’d killed the Governor and his cronies; no threat of war or extermination was hanging on their heads anymore. Rick couldn’t help but smile as he remembered how Daryl had grabbed an arrow and shoved it through the Governor’s eye, even without the help of his crossbow. That had been a good day for all of them. Anyway, Carl would accept them sooner or later; he was a good kid. 

Finally, Rick managed to fall into a semi-fitful sleep. Meanwhile, Daryl sat alone in his perch, choosing to spend his night apart from Rick watching the world outside of his window and rubbing Fluffers’ head. This was the first night they’d spend separately in two weeks, but to Daryl it felt much longer. His bed was lonely without Rick’s lithe, warm body filling it beside his own.


	12. Gematria (The Killing Name)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was meant to be much longer, and if it had been as long as I had originally planned then the title would have made more sense. But I'm starting to get sick, and I'm really tired, and I wanted to stretch this story out for a while longer, so I shortened it by a lot.  
> May you enjoy the fruits of my labor anyway. 
> 
> ALSO SHOUTOUT TO HERPSHA FOR BEING A PERFECT PERSON AND A SWEET ANGEL BABY. YOU GUYS SHOULD GO READ HER STUFF OR FOLLOW HER OR WHATEVER I DON'T KNOW BECAUSE SHE IS AWESOME AS ALL FUCK.

It was a full month before Rick and Daryl actually set out for King County. Daryl was actually the one who made them postpone the trip so many times. For some reason, he felt like his and Rick’s days together were numbered, and so he managed to convince Rick to put it off “one more day,” until eventually thirty days had gone by and Rick had put his foot down about the raid. 

That’s not to say that Rick hadn’t been content to put off the run for so long. During that time he and Daryl were as inseparable as they could possibly be without the group getting suspicious. They spent their time stealing kisses in the guard tower, the field, the tombs, the showers, the kitchen, anywhere they knew they wouldn’t be seen, and of course they spent every night together, as well. They divided their days equally between Rick’s cell and Daryl’s perch; Rick wanted to spend time with his daughter, but he also wanted the alone time they both craved so desperately. 

About a week before their trip, Daryl snuck into Glenn’s cell and stole two of his condoms (he clearly wasn’t using them); he had decided to go all the way with Rick. The makeout session came first, per their routine, but when the clothes came off the boys got shy. They touched each other awkwardly, testing the waters, but soon grew more comfortable with each other. They shared the love equally, neither one taking a set place as a top or bottom, and, in the end, they were both satisfied with the experience. 

The night before their trip to King County, Daryl paced around his perch, his bare feet quietly slapping the cement. He had never been nervous about a raid before, nor had he ever been afraid of what lurked beyond the prison’s walls, but this time was different; there was something off about the whole thing that Daryl just couldn’t place his finger on. His chest felt constricted, as if something was squeezing his heart tighter with every beat. Visions of everything that could g0 wrong the next day danced in front of his eyes, whether they were open or closed, and with every passing second it grew more and more difficult for him to push those thoughts out of his head. 

Rick was having the same troubles that night, but instead of pacing he sat on the edge of his bed, running his fingers through his hair and leaving them there. He shrugged the feeling of wrongness off as best he could; he usually had fleeting moments of worry for those who were going on a raid, whether they were with him or not. He could hear Daryl’s frantic walk, spin, walk, spin, walk, and knew that Daryl had to be just as worried as he was right now. With a parting glance to Judith, Rick made his way to Daryl’s perch.

Daryl stopped his pacing, turning to face the open entryway, hearing Rick’s footsteps as he approached. Rick stopped in the doorway, asking for an invitation inside with just a look. Daryl nodded, then moved to sit on his mattress, Rick taking a seat next to him. Rick looked down at his hands, thinking of something normal to say, while Daryl fidgeted with a hangnail on his thumb. Daryl wasn’t wearing his poncho tonight; it was too warm for something so cloistering that night. Rick tried to keep himself from staring at Daryl’s body, but the redneck was making that task extremely difficult for the sheriff. Daryl leaned back into the wall, his naked upper body glistening slightly in the moonlight, the hair on his chest and down his stomach more appealing than usual. Rick swallowed the urge to touch Daryl’s perfectly chiseled abdomen, clasping his hands together to remain in control. 

Daryl, tired of sitting still, stood once more and walked over to the window. He rested his arms on the sill, placing his chin on his forearm, as he stared out at the geeks milling around on the outskirts of the prison’s fence. Quietly, almost too low for Rick to hear, he whispered “Gematria.”

Rick looked up from his hands, staring now at Daryl’s scarred, yet still beautiful, backside. The ex-cop rose and lithely crossed over to where Daryl stood, allowing only a few inches between them as he settled beside the redneck. “What’d you say?”

Daryl cleared his throat, peering at Rick from the corner of his eye. “Gematria.”

“What’s that?”

“Just somethin’ I picked up on once, seems to fit the world pretty well right about now.”

Rick waited for an explanation, but Daryl provided none. Rick usually wasn’t one to pry, but he was too curious for his own good this time. “So what does Gematria mean?”

“‘Gematria is a killing name. It doesn’t feel or discriminate. Life is just a killing field. It’s all that’s left; nothing’s real.’ Which, for us is in reference to the walkers. The rest goes like this: ‘Throw away your disposable past, and fall apart like cigarette ash. We are the fatal and vital ones of the world.’ Just reminded me of us, what with our bein’ the last survivors of the ‘pocalypse an’ all.” Daryl’s eyes had shifted back to the geeks as he spoke, his voice seeming more distant than usual.

“Where’d you hear that?” Rick was staring at Daryl with a certain sort of amazement in his eyes. Daryl was intelligent, of course, he just didn’t usually show that intelligence off in the form of quoted poetry or prose. 

“It’s from a song I used to hear sometimes on one’a my brother’s radio stations. Don’t ‘member most a’ the lyrics, but that part always stuck with me fer some reason.” Daryl shrugged, and turned his head so that his cheek was resting on his arm, his eyes gazing up at Rick. Daryl smirked as he saw Rick blush in the dim moonlight; he removed one arm from underneath his face and gently, but firmly, grabbed the back of Rick’s neck, bringing the other man’s face down to his own level to kiss him. Rick leaned forward, always willing to kiss his angelic redneck, wrapping an arm around Daryl’s bare waist and pulling him closer. 

Daryl broke the kiss momentarily to whisper in his husky, lusty voice, “Snuck a few more condoms from Glenn’s cell. Sure he won’t miss ‘em.”

Daryl didn’t have to hint twice. Rick gripped the redneck’s abdomen and hauled him to the bed, where they both tumbled into the sheets. 

~ ~ ~

Rick and Daryl lay side by side, Daryl’s shoulder pressed against Rick’s ribs, Rick’s arm slung around Daryl’s other arm. Beads of sweat plastered their hair to their foreheads, and smiles curved both of the boys’ lips as they stayed on the bed, unmoving save for the rise and fall of their chests. 

For the first time in a while Daryl was happy. He had his love beside him, even as the world fell to shit beyond their door. But there was that nagging feeling that something bad was going to happen during the raid again. Daryl sighed heavily, causing Rick to look down with worry. 

“You a’right?” Rick cocked an eyebrow, lightly rubbing Daryl’s shoulder in a comforting manner. 

Daryl shook his head, pushing himself up on his elbow to look Rick in the eyes. “I just can’t shake the feelin’ that somethin’s gonna go wrong tomorrow when we’re up’n King County.” Daryl’s bangs, now much longer than they had been before, flopped into his eyes. 

Rick brushed the hair from Daryl’s face before he replied. “I got the same feelin’, but I’m always worried ‘bout the people leaving night before a run. Doubt if it’s anything serious, Daryl. Besides, we’ll be together goin’ up there, and what’s the worst thing that could happen to a Dixon and a Grimes?” Rick gave Daryl a reassuring smile, and patted his cheek. 

Daryl, sure that Rick was right, but still unable to get rid of the horrid thoughts completely, settled in for the night, wondering if there was a way to mesh his and Rick’s souls forever.


	13. A Place Where You Belong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the only time I don't give anyone the chance to guess the band/artist of the song title used as the chapter title.  
> The song is by Bullet For My Valentine, and I chose it to represent this chapter because it's such a beautiful and powerful song. Whether or not you like BFMV or metal music is cool with me, but I really think you should give the song a listen. Trust me when I tell you it will add a certain depth to this chapter that's really quite amazing.   
> Ok, enjoy.

Rick stacked the various empty duffel bags the group had collected over the months into the back of the mint-green van he and Daryl planned to take up to King County. It struck everyone as odd to be taking so many bags (there were at least ten) for pre-natal vitamins and maybe some food, but Rick wasn’t exactly sure what else they’d be bringing back with them, so he took all of the empty duffels, just in case. 

“Ready?” Rick asked Daryl when he finally emerged from the prison, crossbow and Fluffers in hand. “You can’t bring the cat, you know.” Rick chuckled and Daryl rolled his eyes.

“Just sayin’ bye to the lil’ furball.” Daryl pecked the cat’s forehead before setting it down, all of his willpower going into ignoring the cat’s sad mews for more love. Luckily, Carl walked over and scooped the animal up into his arms, giving it all the attention it desired. 

Carol, holding Judith, stood apart from the group, watching everyone else say their goodbyes. Daryl’s eyes flickered to hers, the blue waters full of sorrow, but she quickly averted her attention to the baby; this was neither the time nor the place to break down. 

Rick’s chest tightened as he watched Carol rock Judith slowly back and forth, and the thought that something horrible would happen to him and Daryl on their trip seized him once more. He walked over to Carol, holding his arms out to take his daughter. Once the little bundle of baby was safely cradled against his chest, Rick kissed her forehead and cheeks and hair, smiling as she giggled and cooed. Daryl came up beside Rick, and bent forward to place a kiss on the girl’s button nose. Carol’s eyes watered at the scene before her: the two strongest men she’d ever known doting over a baby. Finally, Rick handed Judith back to Carol, patted Daryl’s shoulder, and got behind the wheel. 

Michonne and Glenn opened the gate for the car, Glenn waving as they drove away, and closed it again. The locking of the gate had a certain finality to it that everyone could feel, but which was ignored, for the most part. 

While on the road, Daryl grasped Rick’s hand like a talisman. Rick was a little worried by Daryl’s behavior, but knew it was better to just go along with it than to pry into why Daryl was acting this way; asking questions would just make the redneck recede further back into his shell. Rick laced their fingers together, which made Daryl relax his grip slightly. 

Daryl wouldn’t have said anything to Rick, but the air around them hung stale, filling Daryl’s lungs with dread, as if this was the last time they would be able to be loving in this way. Rick merely thought that Daryl had become comfortable enough around him to touch and be touched in mushier ways. In any case, they were both content with the contact and the silence they sat in. 

They spent most of the trip in perfect quiet, the only sounds being that of their breathing, along with the occasional cough. When they were almost at the town Rick broke the silence. 

“You still nervous?” Rick glanced over at Daryl, trying to catch his eye, but the redneck averted his gaze. 

“A bit.” Daryl mumbled his reply, and Rick almost didn’t understand what he’d said. 

“It’s gonna be alright, Daryl. Trust me.” Daryl graced Rick with his eye contact, and Rick managed to put a reassuring smile on his face. 

Rick slowed as they crossed the boundry into King County, not wanting to alert any stray walkers, or scare Morgan into shooting at them. Daryl, having never been to this part of the world before, didn’t know that anything was out of place, but Rick could tell right away that there was a problem. The traps set out on the main road for walkers had been destroyed, the spikes broken and thrown around haphazardly. Rick parked beside one of the demolished traps, staring through the windshield at the damage. 

Daryl opened the passenger door, expecting Rick to follow, but the sheriff sat motionless in the van, brooding over what might have happened to his once great town. 

“You comin’?” Daryl turned to face Rick, cocking an eyebrow at his stillness. Rick had been the one who wanted to make this raid in the first place; he should have been out of the car and forming a plan of action right now. 

Rick nodded, slowly unbuckling himself and sliding out of the car. He shook his head to clear his mind, his last thought a fleeting hope that Morgan was safe somewhere. 

Rick met Daryl at the front of the car, surveying the area for any signs of an ambush, or straggling geeks. Daryl cocked an eyebrow at the sheriff, picking up on how disturbed Rick was. Daryl’s shoulders tensed, figuring that if Rick was this upset there was probably something to worry about. 

“The place Lori’s friend ran is around the corner. It was painted pink, once upon a time. Not sure what the color would be now. Probably still has decals of teddy bears and rattles in the windows, too.” Rick pointed Daryl in the right direction as he spoke. “There’s a bar down at the end of the block, not too far from the baby store. Used to know the guy who owned it. Had a picture of me, Lori, and Carl up on the wall for a while. It was the one Carl brought back a few months ago, in case you saw it.” Rick was rambling, but this time it wasn’t because Daryl’s presence was making him nervous; it was the way the town looked that had him babbling about nothing of importance. 

“What ‘bout a sports store, and a grocery store, or somethin’ like that?” Daryl nudged Rick with his elbow gently, trying to bring his attention back to the present moment. 

Rick thought for a moment, trying to remember where everything used to be, before pointing in the opposite direction from the baby shop. “I know a marketplace was down that way. Not so sure about the sports store, now that I think about it.”

“So what do you wanna hit first?”

“May as well go look ‘round the baby store first, since it’s closer to the car. If we find anything worthwhile we can haul it back here and load it into the van before movin’ on.”

Daryl nodded and swung his crossbow from off his shoulder, into both of his hands, poised to shoot. Rick unsheathed a knife from his belt, stepping carefully over the smashed pieces of wood and torn barbed wire. 

They were making almost at the corner, when they heard a soft groaning. Both men froze instantly, ready to kill whatever came at them. They inched closer to the curve of sidewalk and road, waiting for the noise to come within range. 

Another groan, and the sound of shuffling feet, and then Morgan came into view. Rick gasped, nearly dropping his knife, his throat closing up with emotion. Morgan’s eyes were bloodshot, the irises a sickly mixture between chartreus and crimson. His skin was broken in multiple places, revealing the muscle and bone beneath, and there was dried blood caked around his mouth. 

Daryl was about to put an arrow in walker-fied Morgan’s brain, but Rick put a hand on the redneck’s arm to stop him.

“He was a good man. He deserved a better death.” Tears fell from Rick’s eyes as he stepped forward, holding back Morgan’s hungry lunges by putting a hand on his chest. He raised the knife, leveling it with the middle of Morgan’s forehead. “I’m sorry, Morgan. Sorry I couldn’t be there when you needed me to. Sorry this happened to you, to your family. At least you’re with them now, my friend.” Rick choked towards the end, the unspent sobs trying to force themselves out with his words, and deftly shoved the knife far enough into Morgan’s head to make his body stop moving and drop to the ground with a thud. 

Rick stood beside Morgan’s body, letting his cries out for his lost savior. Daryl came up next to Rick and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling the sheriff into his chest to comfort him. He patted Rick’s back as tenderly as he could, and kissed his forehead. “Shh. It’s a’right, Rick. Your friend’s up’n Heaven now.”

After a few minutes Rick wiped his eyes and straightened up. He’d had his moment of mourning, but he was done now, and he had a job to do. He nodded to Daryl, letting him know that he was able to proceed, and they marched on around the corner. 

Morgan, however, wasn’t even close to being the worst of their problems. As soon as they rounded the curve they were met with a writhing wall of walkers. There was at least thirty geeks milling about, and now each one had caught the scent of fresh flesh to be devoured. 

“Shit!” Daryl shouted, backing away as he pulled the gun from its holster on his hip.

Rick glanced back at the car, gauging the distance; it was too far for them to run to, especially now that the walkers were all lunging and running toward them. Rick shoved the knife back onto his belt, grabbing his gun instead, and managed to put down three geeks.

Daryl took out five, never missing a shot, but the rest of the walkers flooded the two men, separating them. Daryl had enough open road to move on, giving him plenty of time to load another magazine into the butt of his gun when he ran out of ammo, but Rick wasn’t so lucky; Rick was backed up right against the building where Morgan had been living all those months ago. 

Rick managed to kick one walker away just as he shot another, but as soon as one dropped another was there to take its place. Soon he was out of ammunition, and he had no time to reload. He fumbled on his belt for the knife, bringing it up just in time to stab through the eye of a geek who was just inches from snapping his nose off. He removed the knife from the walker’s face as quickly as he could, but it wasn’t fast enough. One walker gripped his arm, taking out a chunk of flesh from his forearm, and another took a bite out of his shoulder. Rick cried out in pain, shaking off the two monsters that had already gotten a taste of him, and shoved his knife through one’s skull. 

Meanwhile, Daryl was able to pick off the six or so that were still coming toward him. Most of the walkers had turned to go for Rick, since his blood was pooling over the sidewalk. Daryl heard Rick’s screams for help, and immediately ran in that direction. Daryl started shouting random obscenities at the walkers, trying to get them to come after him instead of Rick, but they were too preoccupied with the easy meal that Rick had become to pay Daryl any attention. 

There were about ten walkers crowded around Rick, each one clawing at his flailing limbs as he desperately tried to save himself. Rick stabbed another geek in the brain, and kicked another in the kneecap, causing it to drop to the cement. That proved to be a mistake, though, for that one then bit Rick’s ankle. 

Daryl dropped four walkers, using the rest of his bullets. Five walkers left now. He threw the gun aside and swung his crossbow into his hands once more, firing the arrows faster than he would even dare to breathe. The sound of the geeks’ bodies hitting the ground brought Daryl back to reality, the red haze of fury and death fading from his vision. 

Rick moaned and slumped against the wall, sliding to the sidewalk in a heap. Blood was pouring from his various wounds, and he was panting; the fever was already starting to take its place. There was a chunk of flesh missing from his forearm, left shoulder, and left ankle, and he was covered in long gashes and short scratches. 

Daryl dropped his crossbow, not caring if it broke, and rushed to Rick’s side, the tears already flooding down his cheeks in torrents. He’d finally found his soul mate, and now the man he loved was being taken away from him; fate was cruel. Daryl cradled Rick’s head and shoulders in his arm, his other hand stroking Rick’s bearded jawline. 

Rick looked up at Daryl, his eyes rolling slightly before finally making contact. Then Rick did the oddest thing: he smiled. The smile was just a slight upward curving of his lips, but it was there just the same, and it broke Daryl’s heart; Daryl knew that Rick smiled only for him. 

There were no words to be spoken between them, just a final kiss to be shared. Daryl didn’t hesitate to press his lips to Rick’s, all the pent up adoration he’d never been able to show finally releasing itself in these last moments. Rick tried his best to kiss Daryl back, but soon the effort was too much, and his lips fell slack against Daryl’s. Daryl pulled his lips from Rick’s, his tears splashing down onto Rick’s face.

“Daryl, don’t… don’t cry… not for me.” Rick tried to lift his arm so that he could touch Daryl’s soft cheek one last time, but he couldn’t gather the strength to do so. Daryl saw the poor man’s struggle, and grasped his wrist, bringing it up to rest on his cheek; that made Rick smile again, which in turn made Daryl start crying even harder.

“Can’t lose ya, Rick. Yer the best thing’s ever happened to me. I need you.” Daryl ran his fingers through the sheriff’s hair, tugging gently at the soft strands.  
Rick choked out a chuckle that quickly turned into a cough, and shook his head. “You’re strong, babe, you’ll make it through.” Only in this moment could Rick have called Daryl ‘babe’ and gotten away with it. “But now you… you have to shoot me, Daryl. Please. Don’t wanna… come back as a… walker.” The effort of talking was wearing Rick thin, and he had to gasp shallowly after every few words. These were his last breaths, the last words he and Daryl would ever share, but there was so little meaning to them. 

“Rick, no, I… I love you.” Daryl spit out the words he’d been meaning to say for too many days, and wondered how Rick would have reacted if he’d said them earlier. 

Rick’s face lit up at Daryl’s words, his tiny smile becoming just that much wider. “I love… love you, too… my angelic redneck. But it’s time… gotta say… goodbye.” Rick mustered up just enough strength to feebly pull Daryl’s face back down to his to kiss him one more time. “Here.” Rick nudged Daryl with about as much force as a feather, holding the only bullet he’d been able to grab in his fingers. Just one shot, that’s all it would take to send Rick away for good. 

Daryl, tears still showering his face, picked up Rick’s discarded gun and loaded the round into the chamber, cocking the hammer back; the sound resonated sickly in his ears, sending a shiver through his already quivering body. He propped his love against the building, the sunlight shining down on Rick’s face making him look like an angel, and raised the gun so that it was pointed right between Rick’s eyes.

“I hope you make it to a place where you belong, brother. Wait fer me on th’other side.” Daryl waited for Rick to close his eyes, and then he pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am satan.  
> I'm going to bathe in your tears to become more powerful. 
> 
> I am actually sorry that I made you all think this would be sweet just to rip your hearts out this way, though. Please don't think less of me as a person because of this. I promise I will be writing some sweet things soon with no death, so, you know, something to look forward to.  
> And if you decide not to hate me then I want you to know that I love you, beautiful non-judging person.


	14. Breaking Inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a part toward the middle where my writing style changes a bit from past tense to present tense. That was accidental; I just kinda got really into the story and it flowed that way. I read over it and thought it sounded cool that way, so I left it.   
> Enjoy.

Daryl sat motionless beside Rick’s body for too many minutes, staring at the sheriff’s body. Rick’s brains splattered against the wall, Rick’s blood on his hands; it was all too much to take. Daryl couldn’t seem to process what had just happened for several minutes, his body going completely numb in the aftershock. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. If anything he was supposed to die while Rick lived on, because, let’s face it, Rick was the life blood of the group, and they needed him a lot more than they needed Daryl. But that wasn’t the way life worked, not anymore. What was supposed to happen didn’t, and vice versa. This, though, was like a stab to the heart without the mercy of a nearly instant death to follow it up. 

Daryl’s eyes roved over his dead lover’s body for what seemed like the millionth time, and he tried to ignore the bullet hole between Rick’s eyes to focus instead on the man’s still handsome features; even in death Rick was beautiful. 

The tears had stopped flowing now. Daryl was too empty inside to cry anymore, too numb to feel anything but shock. He knew all too well that the sorrow and the agony would come later, perhaps when he was breaking the news to the group, or perhaps when he was alone in his bunk that night, holding that fucking cat that everyone loved so much instead of the man he alone had loved more than anyone. He couldn’t worry about that now, though; he would deal with the pain when it came, silently and within himself, as he always did; right now he had to force himself to stand, walk to the van, and drive back to the prison. 

It was harder than he thought it should have been just to put the distance between him and Rick that standing would, but he managed to get to his feet, even though his legs had about as much solidity as jello. Harder still, to turn his back on Rick and walk those long steps to the car. Every step was a mile, every mile an eternity away from where his soul mate’s body slumped against the ground. Finally, he made it to the car; he looked back once at Rick, saying a silent goodbye, then got in the driver’s side and headed home. 

Thank God Rick had left the keys in the ignition; Daryl didn’t think he would have had the strength to go back for them. He started the engine, turned the car around, and got the hell out of dodge as quick as he could. The speedometer showed his speed at going well over 100mph, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care if a couldn’t brake in time to avoid an accident, or if another herd of walkers heard the van speeding down the highway and came racing after him; they would never catch up, not with how fast he was traveling, and he needed to put as many miles between him and Rick’s town as quick as he could, because the agony was starting to creep into him now, and he wanted to be back at the prison before he had a major breakdown. He was too focused on going fast, fast, fast to notice, or care about, the tears that had started rolling down his cheeks again; the numbness inside was receding with every spin of the tires, and soon enough there wouldn’t be any left to shield him from the sorrow threatening to drown him. 

It seemed like hours had elapsed when he eventually made it back to the prison, when in reality it had only taken him about thirty minutes. He barely managed to stop in time for Glenn and Michonne to get the gate open, almost barreling right through it. They could tell something was wrong by how much speed Daryl had pushed into the car, and they opened the gate up as fast as was humanly possible. Daryl waited just long enough for them to give him enough space to pass through, then he slammed down on the gas pedal again, nearly hitting Carl and Fluffers as he rushed into a parking spot. 

Glenn and Michonne raised their guns, turning in wide arcs to survey the area around the prison and make sure that no one else was following their van. Carol, holding Judith, as always, Carl, and Hershel crowded around the car, waiting for their boys to emerge and explain what had happened. Everyone gasped when Daryl stepped out of the driver’s side, and they realized that Rick wasn’t with him. 

“Daryl, where’s Rick?” Hershel spoke up, his voice gentle.

Daryl closed his eyes and shook his head, not wanting to say the words, but know he would have to sooner or later. He took a deep breath, swallowed the lump in his throat, and said in a timid voice, “Rick’s dead.”

The group exchanged a glance amongst themselves, and then Carol stepped up beside Daryl, laying a hand on his shoulder. Daryl thought about shrugging her off, but her touch did make him feel slightly better, so he let her stay there. 

“What did you say?” Carol whispered as she stared up at him, her wide eyes incredulous. 

“Said Rick’s dead, Carol. Ain’t never comin’ back. Gone up to that big pie in the sky to be with Lori again. He’s fuckin’ dead, and I hadda be the one put a bullet in his head.” Daryl’s voice rose with both anger and sadness, and he sobbed between words. 

Carol gasped, the hand that had been resting on Daryl’s shoulder now flying to cover her mouth as she made a noise that was a horrible mixture between a gasp and a cry. 

Sorrow flooded everyone, washing them in a tidal wave of grief, and for a while no one could say a word. 

Michonne, being one of the stronger members of the group, forced her tears aside. “What happened?” 

Daryl merely looked at her, the twin waterfalls his tears had become starting to ebb, before he told them. “Found his friend. Think his name was Morgan. Rick hadda put ‘im down, ya know? Then Rick was real sad fer a minute, but he pulled through, ‘cause he’s Rick. So we turned a corner to go to that damn baby store and boom thirty fuckin’ geeks are starin’ right back at us. Too far to run back to the car, so we tried’a fight, but we got separated. I was lucky ‘nough to have space behind me to back up n’ reload n’ such, but Rick, he got pressed right up ‘gainst a buildin’. Freaks started pilin’ up on ‘im, n’ he couldn’t reload his gun, y’know? So he starts tryin’a fight ‘em off with just his knife. Son’bitch gits bit an’ scratched all to hell. I managed to git over there n’ help ‘im out, but it was too late, ya know, ‘cause they’d already ripped him half t’shreds. He’s weak, dyin’ right there on the sidewalk, tells me I gotta shoot ‘im, ‘cause he don’t wanna come back as no walker. So we said our goodbyes, n’ I propped him up ‘gainst the buildin’, and he closed his eyes, n’ I shot him, right in the fuckin’ forehead, and he just slumped ‘gainst the wall, n’ that was the end of it.”

More silence now, everyone trying to process this information in their own way, and then Carl steps up, tears springing into his eyes. He’s dropped the cat, and is instead clutching his dad’s sheriff hat too tightly to his chest; the hat’s wrinkled and crushed now, but Carl doesn’t care, because it doesn’t matter now. He walks over to Daryl’s side and looks up at him with eyes filled with too much grief for Daryl to bear. In Carl’s eyes you can see his soul breaking into a million tiny pieces, and Daryl knows that the right thing to do here is just pull the boy into a tight embrace, so that’s exactly what he does. 

Carl crumbles right there against Daryl’s side, his sobs echoing throughout the prison. “I never got to tell him that I accepted him. I never told him that no matter who he chose to love I’d always love him, because he’s my dad. He died thinking I hated him. I’m sorry, Daryl. I should have told you both sooner. I accept you. I’m so, so sorry.” Carl buries his face into Daryl’s dirty angel wing vest, his tears soaking through the fabric. 

Daryl chokes up as he rubs Carl’s back. “S’alright, kiddo. He knew you loved him. He loved you, too.” He doesn’t know what else to tell the boy, so he just stands there and lets Carl cry on him. 

“What… What does he mean he accept you? What’s he talking about?” Carol takes a step toward them, the confusion clear on her face. She’s not one to pry, but this seems like an important detail that’s been left out. 

“We were gay fer each other, a’right.” Daryl snaps at her. He tries to rein in the anger so that he can continue, but it doesn’t work out too well. “He loved me, n’ I loved him. There was somethin’ about him that I couldn’t not love, ya know? Like we were ‘sposed to be together.” Daryl shakes his head, turning his gaze away from hers. 

Carol stifles a sob, all of the pieces falling into place now. It makes sense why he couldn’t love her, or return her kiss that day in his perch, but that doesn’t lessen her pain any, because she knows she will always love him in such a hopeless way. 

No one says anything after that. They all just trickle into the prison to tell Beth and Maggie the horrible news. 

~ ~ ~

Daryl sits alone in his cell, staring out the window, just like he always does, Fluffers curled up on the sheets next to him. He strokes the cat’s fur idly from time to time, but mostly he just thinks about everything that happened that day, and everything he could have done to save Rick. It should have been him who died, but it wasn’t, and he thinks that maybe he could have prevented what happened, even though he knows he couldn’t. 

The agony has come; now he’s breaking inside, and he can’t do anything but be drowned in his sorrow. He cries silently, not wanting to wake the others, even though the sobs wrack his body, causing him to curl into a tight ball on the mattress as his frame shakes violently with his cries. 

There’s a knock on his wall, and Carol’s voice softly calls, “Daryl?” He doesn’t bother to answer, just invites her in with a wave of his hand. She knows better than to say anything, especially since nothing she can say will make him feel any better. So instead she lays beside him and wraps her arm around his waist, murmuring soft hushes to soothe his cries. He doesn’t care that she still loves him, doesn’t even notice as she kisses his tears away; all he cares about is that he has her friendship back, and he lets himself melt into her embrace, falling into a restless sleep as she hums to him. All it took for them to fit back together into their best friendship was Rick’s death. Daryl knows that somewhere out there Rick is smiling for them, for him, once again, and that’s some comfort, at least for the moment. 

That night Daryl dreams that he and Rick are in the guard tower, holding hands as they both put guns to their hearts and pull the triggers.


	15. Dear Agony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stretching this out a bit longer because I want to really explain an delve into Daryl's pain.   
> I actually thought that I'd be done with this by chapter 15. Exeeding expectations, woo!  
> Ok, this is another one of those chapters where I'm telling you the band for the song title because it adds depth and feeling.   
> The song is Dear Agony by Breaking Benjamin.   
> The song lyrics mentioned in the story are from the song Asylum by Disturbed, just fyi.   
> Give the songs a listen. You won't be disappointed.   
> Enjoy.

The days became a blur of pain and gray walls to Daryl. He stayed up in his perch most of the time, only coming out to use the bathroom, or inspect some problem the other group members had come to him about. With Rick gone Daryl had become the new leader, a responsibility he had no desire to bear, but which was thrust upon him, regardless. 

Daryl rarely spoke to anyone unless asked a direct question, and never bothered to get food or water for himself. Carol had taken to bringing up meals for him, and leaving water bottles by his bedside. She didn’t say much to him when she made her appearances. Occasionally she would ask how he was doing, and his response was always the same “I’m fine” every time she asked. Everyone there could tell that he most certainly was not fine, but no one knew what to do to make him open up about what he was feeling; in all honestly, they didn’t want him to tell them everything; he was never much for talking, and they were all grieving, too. 

Every night Daryl suffered through the same dream. He and Rick held hands in the guard tower, a smile passing between them, their breaths flowing evenly in and out of their bodies. Rick would look into Daryl’s eyes, blue on blue, and ask simply, “Ready?” Daryl would respond with a nod, and then they would both lean in to kiss before raising the guns they both clutched. They would press the barrels to their chests, right over their hearts, and deftly pull the triggers at the same time, a perfect end for them both. Daryl had stopped considering it a nightmare long ago. 

Lately, Daryl contemplated the meaning of life. Why live if you were just going to die in the end? Why suffer through this shitty world just to end up slumped against a run-down building with chunks of flesh torn from your body and your soul mate putting a bullet through your brain? It didn’t quite make sense to Daryl, and every morning he woke up, still alive while Rick was still dead, made his dream look that much better. 

Without Rick the group had started falling apart. Everyone turned to Daryl to solve their problems, but he never had enough answers to fix everything. After a lifetime of taking orders from everyone else, he wasn’t exactly suited to have followers to look after. 

The only real decision he had made as Rick’s replacement was to kick the Woodbury folks out of his prison and get them on their own damn way to wherever else they wanted to be. He never did see eye to eye with Rick on that subject, and now that Rick was gone there was no one to keep those people in check. Hell if Daryl was going to keep watch of them when he couldn’t even manage to take care of himself. 

That day Karen had bounded right over to him, her eyes ablaze with betrayal, and demanded to know what his fucking problem was. For a fleeting moment Daryl thought about giving her a good slap to the cheek, but he wouldn’t dare stoop to Ed and his father’s level; he was better than that, at least. 

“My fucking problem, little miss vixen, is that the man I love’s dead, and he was the only one who thought it was a good idea keepin’ all you Gov’ner lovers ‘round. Now that I’m in charge I’m sayin’ we don’t have ‘nough food ‘r other supplies to keep y’all alive, let alone ‘rselves. So y’all kin run on back to where ya came from. Gov’ner’s dead, anyway, so you can live in peace without his tyranny. Yer welcome.” And then Daryl had firmly grabbed her arm and hauled her ass out the front gate, rolling it closed and locking it right in her face. He didn’t even bother with a backward glance at her shocked expression; he didn’t care what she thought of him. 

Daryl also now refused to go on runs. He sent Michonne and Glenn in his place, since they both had a knack for getting out of tough situations alive, and keeping others safe in the process. They made the trip back up to King County and returned with a bounty of food, water, gasoline, and other supplies that could be seen as luxuries for the group, such as Irish Spring soap, perfume and cologne, and hair brushes. Daryl was glad they were able to do what he no longer could, and thanked them for their trouble; it was one of the few times he spoke to anyone since what happened to Rick. 

While Daryl hadn’t been able to bring back Rick’s body, and nobody else felt inclined to do so, the group still fashioned a cross-shaped grave marker from a couple of long sticks tied together and gave him a place in the field next to Lori and T-Dogg so that they could mourn him properly. When Daryl wasn’t holed up in his perch he was out there, kneeling beside Rick’s makeshift grave, whispering to his lost love. No one dared to come and collect him until the sun had stared to set, and they always sent Carol out to get him; he was more comfortable around the slight woman, even now. 

About two weeks after Rick’s death, Daryl was sitting beside the grave, the afternoon sun beating down on the back of his angel-wing vest, a cool breeze countering the heat. He ran his fingers over the wooden cross, somehow not getting any splinters in his fingertips. He hadn’t thought of anything to say yet, but he wanted Rick to know, wherever he was, that Daryl still cared for him. Daryl vaguely wished that Rick’s ghost would appear as Lori’s had done, but so far no such thing had happened. 

Lyrics to another long-forgotten song filtered through his brain, and Daryl knew that they were what he was meant to say to Rick today. “I’m dreading the final moments when I have to dream. I feel you die. In asylum I live a lie. Don’t you know I’m in love with you, and I wasn’t ready to let go. Now it’s dragging me into your grave, your asylum. I’m overcome with the feeling that I won’t get to join you in time. This loneliness is killing me.” Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes as he recited the words, rolling down his cheeks and dripping from his chin to the earth. He cried there for the rest of the day until Carol came to pull him in for dinner. 

Daryl couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d had to shoot Rick. Had it been a month? Longer? Well, it didn’t matter now, and he wasn’t exactly keen on keeping track. He knew he couldn’t continue on this way any longer, though. He was so tired of living without Rick, so tired of living at all, that he was ready to just end it. 

Over the next few days he contemplated suicide, how he would kill himself, whether or not he would leave a note, who he might want to say goodbye to. He couldn’t tell anyone, not yet, because they’d all try to stop him and tell him it wasn’t worth it, even though it was to him. He would leave a note then, tell them all goodbye after the fact. It would destroy them, losing both of the people they counted on to lead them so close to each other, but he didn’t care about them anymore; he just wanted this dear agony to let go of him once and for all.


	16. Penance/Close My Eyes Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't choose between which song I wanted as the chapter title, because they both seemed to fit really well, so I made a double title.  
> I'm also going to apologize before hand for this chapter. It made me sad just to write it. But I'm too far in now to back out of how I originally planned it.  
> Please don't hate me.

Daryl sat cross-legged at Rick’s grave, picking up small handfuls of dirt and letting them slip through his fingers like the sands of time might fall through the Lord’s. His crossbow was nowhere to be seen, the redneck’s favorite weapon having now been left, uncared for, in a corner of his perch. He refused to carry a gun, and kept only a knife on his belt; he didn’t care about surviving a walker attack, or other form of danger, but he kept the knife with him to appease the other members of the group. 

“Will the penance make the nightmares go away, and save me from this endless night?” He whispered to the earth. Daryl had set his mind on suicide, but he still wondered if that would be enough to quell the demons inside his mind, screaming at him every second of the day. Would his life be enough penance for Rick’s? Would his blood quench the grief’s thirst, fill it once and for all so that he could finally find some peace? 

There was no answer from the wind, no ghostly Rick floating beside him to guide him to the right path. Yes, the demons hissed inside his head. Yes, your life will be enough. Give up your soul, and this can all go away. 

“If I close my eyes forever will it all remain the same?” He said this in reference to the good of the group. Just because they had made him their new leader didn’t mean that that’s what they needed him to be. He was still pretty convinced that they would be better off without him. 

Yes, the voices answered. Of course they’ll be better off without you. They never needed you, Daryl, not like your brother needed you, not like we need you. Come to us, Daryl. You’ll be happier here. Here with Rick, and Merle, and everyone else you’ve lost.

Daryl sighed and shook his head, trying to get the whispers out of his mind. Alright, he would do it, that night. Take his own life and meet his soul mate on the other side; seemed a reasonable trade to him. It might even get rid of the voices in his head, too, and wouldn’t that be a blessing. 

He had to wait until the others were asleep so that he wouldn’t alert anyone to what he was up to. Once he was sure that no one besides him was awake, he tiptoed over to Rick’s cell. Judith’s crib had been left there indefinitely; whenever someone tried to move it into a different area, the little girl screamed and cried, as if when she was in her father’s cell she could still feel his presence there, watching over her. 

Daryl looked in at the peacefully sleeping baby, tearing up at how perfect she looked. He wished that she could grow up to look like Rick, despite her genetics. At least she would always have Carl and the others to care for her; she would never want for love or attention. 

“Bye, Lil’ Asskicker. I’m gonna miss ya. Sorry I gotta sweep myself outta yer life so soon, but it’s better if ya never really know me.” He leaned forward, gently brushing her bangs off her forehead, and placed a soft kiss there. One tear fell on her cheek, and she smiled as she slept. 

Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder and crept quietly down the stairs and out of the prison’s walls before anyone even had time to move. He headed for the guard tower, the one place someone was sure to find him in the morning. He would rather they all know his decision, and see his note goodbye, than let them think he had run out in the night like a coward.

Once inside the tower he scrounged up a piece of paper and a blunt pencil, and with these he left his suicide note. 

Carol, I’m so sorry that I couldn’t love you back the way you wanted me to. Never wanted to hurt you, y’know. Maybe if Rick hadn’t’a come ‘long n’ shown me his adoration we coulda fit together, after some more time. Guess not anymore, though. Love you, as my best friend, though. 

Glenn, yer a tough lil’ Chinaman. Keep your gal safe out there. Don’t lose her like I lost Rick. 

Hershel, Maggie, Beth, thanks fer all yer help ‘round the prison after Rick died. Lord knows I needed yer support. 

Michonne, keep bein’ a badass. 

When Lil’ Asskicker gets old ‘nough, tell her I loved her like my own. Tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t see ‘er grow up.

Guess that’s it, then.

Rick got bit  
Couldn’t wait fer a fever to hit  
My world’s gone to shit  
So I’m gonna quit.

~Daryl

The redneck sighed as he read over his final words. They were so impersonal, as if he’d never really known these people at all; the only one he had managed to give a real goodbye to was Carol. No time to fix the letter now, though. He pulled a bolt from his bow and stabbed it into the piece of paper, sticking it on the wall for all to see. 

He plucked another arrow from his crossbow and held it in his hands, weighing his life one last time. He’d never even considered suicide before, not when his father beat him, or his mom died, or Merle left him time after time and then got himself killed, but Rick’s love had brought some previously unknown feeling into his heart. Without that feeling inside him there was nothing else, just emptiness. This was the answer he had been looking for, the solution to the problem his sorrow had become, and damn if he wasn’t going to jump at the chance before it was gone. 

Daryl gripped the arrow firmly, pressing the tip against his chest, right over where his heart was. He could practically hear Rick’s voice speaking “ready?” in his ears, could feel the man’s bright smile shining on him. Daryl smiled in response to his delusions, and whispered “Yeah, I’m ready.” Keeping a strong hold on the shaft he pointed himself towards the wall where he had pinned his note. He took a deep breath, hopefully the last breath he would ever inhale, and then pushed all his weight into the wall, shoving the arrow straight through his heart. 

There was no fear, no pain, just a slight gasp of breath as Daryl dropped to the floor, the blood pooling around him. For one brief second he thought, ‘I’m comin’ home to ya, Rick,’ and then he was gone, the blackness enveloping him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to state that I do not in any way, shape, or form condone suicide. I have suffered through severe depressions and suicidal thoughts for several years of my life, so I know how horrible it makes you feel inside, and how your thoughts all sound like vicious demons trying to break you. I wanted everyone to really get a look at Daryl's thoughts, and feel his pain, and that's why I wrote the story this way.  
> Suicide is a very permanent end to temporary issues. If you are feeling suicidal, please seek help for yourself through friends, family, councelors, and anyone else who can help you. All of you may also contact me at any time via the inbox on this site or my tumblr (insanechayne.tumblr.com). I will always be here to listen and help you through any problems you may have. Please do not commit suicide. You all have such amazing, beautiful lives ahead of you. The pain will go away someday. I love you all so much.


	17. Then The Morning Comes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short because I wanted to get this over with quickly.

Carol woke before any of the others, but she didn’t leave her cot. Something felt wrong, though she couldn’t tell what, exactly. There was a feeling inside of her like something was missing, almost as if someone snuffed out one of the eight candles on a menorah. The longer she lay there, unmoving, the worse she felt about starting the day, and she ended up staying in her cell until Glenn came to collect her for breakfast. 

“Where’s Daryl?” Carol asked when she finally made it into the group’s sitting area where the others were finishing up some instant oatmeal. Not seeing him there wasn’t just odd, it felt like a punch to the gut, even though she knew it shouldn’t; Daryl had gone out early in the morning before, and it had never affected her like it was now. 

“Not sure. Haven’t seen him around all morning.” Glenn shrugged as he spooned more of the not-quite-set oatmeal into his mouth. “Oh, but I was wondering if you could take watch in the guard tower today? We could really use the eyes up there with fewer people now.” Everyone had avoided talking about Rick’s passing in ways any more blunt than that, and Glenn was certainly no exception. 

“Sure,” Carol nodded and turned, grabbing the rifle that Glenn had already pulled out and set aside for her. There was a tightening in her stomach that was making her nauseous, and the sight of that goopy oatmeal really wasn’t helping. 

Carol stepped out into the soft morning glow bathing the yard, taking a deep breath as she surveyed the surrounding area. The air was fresh and crisp, filling her with a sense of life that she couldn’t seem to find anywhere else. As she looked around the outer-edge of the prison she saw Carl coming back from the field. She hadn’t even noticed that he hadn’t been at the tables with the others, and she felt somewhat guilty about not caring more about the boy; after all, he was an orphan now. 

She shook her head, clearing her mind of such negative thoughts, and climbed up the stairs to the guard tower’s balcony. As she approached the door she could hear soft moans and scratches coming from the other side. She figured it was Daryl suffering through a restless sleep; he had probably gone up to the tower for some fresh air and a change of scenery, and just fallen asleep up there. 

Carol didn’t bother to knock, but rather just opened the door; the best way to rouse him from sleep lately was just to give him a gentle shake on the shoulder, anyway. As the door swung open she gasped, a cry strangling her as she tried to choke it back. 

Inside the guard tower stood a walker-fied version of Daryl, its eyes no longer blue, but rather red, and very bloodshot. An arrow was stuck in its chest, right where Daryl’s heart was, and Carol knew right away that this was no accident. 

Carol had no choice; she had to put him down. Walker Daryl was coming right at her, its hands groping for her so that it could rip into her flesh and devour her. She raised the rifle she had brought with her and shot it right in the face, the back of its skull exploding and sending blood and brains splattering against the glass viewing windows and walls. 

Carl had been visiting Rick and Lori’s graves that morning, speaking words of apology, and asking for guidance that never came. He was in the yard by the time the shot from Carol’s gun sounded in the tower, and he looked up in time to see blood splattering the walls. Carl took only a second to decide to run into the prison and grab Glenn, just in case, before rushing back to the tower. 

When they made it to the top they found Carol standing inside, tears streaking her face, a blood-stained piece of paper in her hand. 

“Carol?” Glenn spoke gently, not wanting to startle her and get shot accidentally. 

Carol didn’t look up at him; she just continued to stare at that paper, almost as if she were in a trance. 

“Carol, what happened?” Glenn stepped forward and rested his hand lightly on her shoulder, trying to turn her slightly so that she would pay attention to him. 

“He’s dead. He killed himself.” Carol whispered, shaking her head slowly in disbelief. 

“Who’s dead?” Carl moved into the tower, looking up at Carol with wide eyes. 

“Daryl.” She replied, holding out the note to the two boys in front of her. 

Carl grabbed the note before Glenn could, his eyes already watering to hear that Daryl was gone from his life, too. They read over the note together, both of them crying by the end. 

“We have to go tell the others.” Glenn announced quietly, patting Carl’s shoulder in a somewhat comforting manner. Carl merely nodded, not trusting his voice enough to speak for fear that his sobs would break loose if he opened his mouth. The young men slowly moved out of the tower and toward the stairs, when the sound of the railing clanging made them look back. 

Carol had lifted one boot onto the top of the railing, and she was preparing to step up fully. Daryl had told her everything she’d wanted to hear and torn the words apart all in the same few sentences. She had fallen in love with him, and, even though she knew he would never love her back the same way, not when his heart was set on Rick, she knew that as long as he was beside her she could continue on, too. Yes, it was selfish to place her life in someone else’s hands in such a way, especially when at any moment he could have been so easily taken from her, as he now had been, but the way she saw it she had nothing else to live for in the first place. Now that Daryl had died she would follow him into the light; she couldn’t face the world anymore, not without her knight by her side. 

Glenn realized what Carol was doing just a second too late, his fingers grasping at the empty air in his failed attempt to grab her jacket and pull her back down. He watched her fall, the wind blowing her hair and clothing back slightly. It had only taken about five seconds for her to hit the ground, but it felt like an eternity watching her free fall to her death. Carol’s body hit the concrete with a sickening thud, the blood already starting to pool beneath her cracked skull. She had been smart about her suicide; she had dived at just the right angle for her head to hit the floor first, so that the impact would crush her skull, and therefore destroy her brain. 

Carl ran down the steps, heading right for Carol’s limp body. She couldn’t be dead, not yet, not when the group, and Carl himself, still needed her so much. But yet she was, her eyes void of life, her blood forming a scarlet lake around her motherly face. That was the moment that broke Carl for good; he dropped to his knees beside Carol, his sobs echoing throughout the prison yard. In a month three of the people he cared most about in this new world had died, and two of them had been by their own hand, and to him that just wasn’t fair. 

Glenn’s hand came down on the boy’s shoulder, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb, but Carl paid the older man no attention. Carl couldn’t process what had happened, not right now; now he just needed to cry his sorrow out and grieve for his dead.


	18. Back To Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really short chapter this time, but I wanted to have this moment in here before closing things up.

Night had fallen upon the group once more, and now two more cells lacked a warm body to fill their cots. The silence that night was eerie, as if there was something lurking in the shadows, just waiting to strike. 

Carl couldn’t sleep; every time he closed his eyes visions of Carol leaping from the tower filled his mind, and that wasn’t something he particularly wanted to live through again. If his tears hadn’t dried up sometime during the afternoon, they’d be rolling down his cheeks in an endless stream now. 

Carl couldn’t help but linger on the fact that Daryl didn’t mention him anywhere in his suicide note; not even his name or a passing goodbye had been written anywhere on that paper. Carl wasn’t going to be petty, not when a man’s soul had slipped away from his body, but he was slightly hurt that Daryl had forgotten him. Not that Carl couldn’t understand why Daryl had ignored him during his final moments; Carl had caused Daryl just as much pain as Rick’s death had by not accepting their love until it was too late. The boy wished that he could just go back in time and ‘give them his blessing’, so to speak, right off the bat; they had deserved that much. 

Carl sighed and sat up on the edge of his mattress, rubbing his eyes groggily with the backs of his hands. He was all alone now; all of his loved ones had died, except for Judith, but she was just a baby. Sure, he still had Glenn and Maggie and Hershel and Beth and Michonne, but he had never been as close to them as he’d been with his father and Daryl, and even Carol. 

The boy shook his head, trying to make his thoughts disappear, then rose from the cot. He would go see Judith in his dad’s cell; maybe that would calm him. He slipped from his cell, silently making his way up the stairs to the now mostly deserted top floor, and into his father’s old cell. 

Judith slept peacefully, her thumb in her mouth, just like always. Carl ran his fingertips over the top of the crib’s railing as he looked in at his sister. He wanted the little girl’s tranquility, needed it, even, but it wouldn’t come to him anymore. He plopped down on the bottom bunk, the bed that had been his father’s, and laid his head on the pillow; perhaps he could sleep here, where his father’s presence was so strong. 

Carl rolled onto his side and heard a soft crackling beneath his head. Puzzled, he sat up and patted at the pillow. There was something stuck in the pillow’s covering. Carl held up the pillow and shook it, smiling slightly as a folded up piece of paper fell from the pillowcase. He set the pillow down again and picked up the paper, turning it over in his hands. One on side, in Daryl’s handwriting, was Carl’s name. 

Carl’s eyes widened a bit and he eagerly unfolded the paper, anxious to read what was inside. 

Carl, 

I’m sorry I hafta do this to ya, ‘specially so soon after ya lost your dad. But I miss him too much to keep goin’ anymore. There’s no point to this life now. 

Your dad never thought ya hated him. He knew it’d take some time fer ya to come to terms with what we’d become, and he was willin’ to wait for ya to make up yer mind about it. He knew you still loved him, deep down, even though you were confused. He loved you, too, kiddo, and to be honest so did I. 

You’re a good kid, Carl. Got a good head on yer shoulders, ‘cause ya got yer dad’s smarts. You’ll make it in this world. 

Take care’a yer sister, a’right? She’s gonna need a role model to look up to, and far as I’m concerned that outta be you. Sure yer dad would agree, too. When she’s older, tell ‘er ‘bout her daddy, and her momma. Tell her they loved her, and tell her that her Uncle Daryl always called her Lil’ Asskicker and kept her safe as he could. She needs to know she was loved, ‘specially in this life. 

Never forget who you are, kiddo. 

~Daryl

Carl read the words repeatedly, commiting them all to memory, his eyes overflowing with tears he thought were long since dried. Daryl didn’t forget him, after all, he just wanted to give him something more personal to hold on to. That made a world of difference to the boy, and suddenly his grief was just that much less suffocating. He was struggling, but he would make it, they all would. 

Carl folded the letter up again, placing it in the pocket of his jeans, and fell asleep in his father’s bed, a soft smile on his face.


	19. Nowhere Kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My writing style is different in this chapter. I wanted this to be mostly present tense, because it seemed to work better that way.

It’s been five years since the 30 Days of Sorrow, as the surviving group members have called the month where three of their most beloved people died. Now only Carl, Judith, Glenn, Maggie, and the couple’s baby, Darrick, remain. 

Judith is five, and Darrick is four, and the two are inseperable. Carl can already tell that the two of them will grow up to be lovers.

Judith has Lori’s pretty face, and her brunette tresses, but her eyes are just as blue as Rick’s were; those eyes never fail to amaze the others, even though they’ve stared into them more than a few times. 

Darrick has Glenn’s straight, black hair, but his eyes are the bright green/hazel that Maggie’s are, and he’s already a handsome little fella. When he smiles the entire room lights up, and it makes the others smile, too. 

Carl is seventeen, soon to be eighteen, though no one will remember his birthday; there’s still no real way to keep track of the dates. Carl doesn’t care about his birthday, or growing older; he still harbors bitterness because of what happened to his father, and, in turn, Daryl, and he still has nightmares about Carol taking a swan-dive off the guard tower. The boy has hardened into a man with sharp features, and a lean muscular body, and he doesn’t even blink at the thought of killing another person, if need be. He’s still troubled, but he’s doing better. 

Glenn and Maggie are slowly creeping into their thirties, but they’re no worse for wear. Glenn’s become the leader of the small family, and he takes Carl with him on runs while Maggie stays at the prison with the kids. It’s a good set-up they have going, and it’s worked for them for years without any real issues. 

Michonne left the group a few weeks after Daryl and Carol killed themselves. The group had no leader strong enough to make her want to stay, and she preferred the nomadic lifestyle to staying put in a place with more bars than bricks. 

Hershel had a heart attack one night in his sleep. Seeing as how he was the only thing even close to a doctor that the group had, Carl had to put him down before he could turn. They buried him beside the others in the field; Maggie visited his grave, and Beth’s, every few weeks. 

Beth commited suicide not long after Hershel passed away. She respected Rick as a leader, had a small crush on Daryl, and had come to think of Carol as a motherly figure, and her father’s death combined with theirs pushed her over the edge. Maggie had her husband and her baby, but Beth had nothing. Beth had found a razor in a back cupboard of the kitchen’s storage area, and had slit her wrists in her cell late at night while the others were sleeping. The rest of the group had been alerted to the sound of the walker version of Beth groaning and shuffling around, and Carl had had to take her out, too. Needless to say those next few weeks were rough on everyone. 

Glenn thought it best to stay at the prison, and everyone else agreed; when they needed to gather more food or supplies they traveled a little farther each time, clearing out as many stores as they could before returning. 

~ ~ ~

Carl is in the field, visiting the graves, when Judith walks over to him. 

“What are those sticks for?” She asks, her wide eyes full of innocence. 

“They’re to mark the graves of those who have passed away.” Carl replies solemnly. 

“Who were they?”

“Family.”

“What were their names?”

Carl sighs, and points to each of the markers one at a time. “T-Dogg, Lori, Rick, Daryl, Carol, Hershel, and Beth.”

Judith tilts her head, looking curiously at the graves, wondering who those people were, and what they meant to Carl. 

“Judith, let me tell you a story.” Carl says, and pulls the one family picture he’s managed to save out of his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, one more chapter, and then we're done. This chapter is just the end of what happens to the surviving group members.  
> A few things:  
> ~Judith's eyes being exactly like Rick's is my way of hinting that she was really Rick's child and not Shane's, in case you didn't get that.  
> ~Glenn and Maggie named their baby Darrick as tribute to Daryl and Rick.  
> ~This chapter is short and open ended because I didn't want to deal with Carl telling Judith the whole story over again. So that's that.


	20. Generation Dead

“How’re they doin’ today?” Daryl asked as he plopped down beside Rick on the cloud the sheriff was sitting on. 

“Pretty good. Judith’s playing tag with Darrick right now. It’s nice seeing them run around the field like that.” Rick smiled, his face lighting up at the sight of his daughter and her future soul mate. 

“Kid’s got your eyes, Rick. Means she’s yours.” Daryl put his arm around Rick’s shoulders, giving the man a half hug. 

Rick nodded, his smile growing just that much wider. “I knew she was mine to begin with.” Rick pressed his forehead to Daryl’s, closing his eyes and just enjoying the other man’s presence. 

The two men had made it to Heaven, the Great Beyond, Paradise. They had both been welcomed quite warmly by the others who had made it there before them: Amy, Jacqui, Dale, Andrea, T-Dogg, Lori, Sophia, Jimmy, Patricia, Otis, and even Merle. The reunion was joyous, and smiles abounded. 

Lori, Carol, and Sophia came over to join Rick and Daryl. Lori sat beside Rick, taking his free hand in hers and lacing their fingers. Rick brought his wife’s hand to his lips to kiss it softly, smiling at her with love and adoration.

Daryl reached his free arm out to Carol, who grinned as she snuggled into his side. Sophia sat in her lap, her chin resting in her hands as she watched Carl lay some flowers on everyone’s grave. Carol ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair as she rested her head against Daryl’s chest, closing her eyes and letting the warmth of her family fill her with happiness. 

“T-Dogg wants to get a football game goin’. You in, baby brother?” Merle grinned, poking the back of Daryl’s head as he stepped up behind the group. Merle had gotten his hand back, and he held the football in that hand, happy to have it there once more. 

T-Dogg jogged over, stopping next to Merle and giving him a pat on the back. “C’mon, man, some of the angels want in, too. Any’a you guys comin’?” He addressed the group, looking from one face to another. 

“Nah, I’m good right here.” Daryl chuckled as he shooed his brother away, the rest of the group shaking their heads in polite decline. 

Merle and T-Dogg shrugged and raced each other back to where they had come from. Being granted entrance past the pearly gates had smoothed the wrinkles between the two, and with all the hate and fear from their lives erased, they had become close friends. Merle had even felt truly repentant for all the racist remarks he’d said to T-Dogg, and T-Dogg had forgiven him easily. 

Rick looked over at Daryl and raised one eyebrow; the redneck was usually always willing to play some normal sport with his brother, now that they had the chance. Daryl saw the question in Rick’s eyes, and in response pressed his lips to the sheriff’s. They were finally free to love each other and be happy together.   
Lori cuddled closer to Rick, placing a kiss on his cheek before laying her head on his shoulder; somehow in death everything had worked out so that Rick could love both his wife and his angelic redneck, and the same went for Daryl with Carol. Daryl turned to Carol, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, causing her to giggle lightly.

The group stayed like that for the remainder of the day: Lori cuddled against Rick, Carol cuddled against Daryl with Sophia in front of her, and Rick and Daryl cuddled against each other. Generation Dead, all clustered together. Finally, they were at peace. 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parting is such sweet sorrow.   
> I hope you guys liked this fic, though. Be on the lookout for my next ones. 
> 
> Here's the complete song list for my chapter titles, in case anyone was wondering. Album names are included in parenthsis
> 
> 6\. Almost Easy - Avenged Sevenfold (Avenged Sevenfold)  
> 7\. Four Words To Choke Upon - Bullet For My Valentine (The Poison)  
> 8\. Everything Changes - Staind (Chapter V)  
> 9\. Give Me A Sign - Breaking Benjamin (Dear Agony)  
> 10\. Truth Hurts - Bullet For My Valentine (Temper Temper)   
> 11\. Water - Breaking Benjamin (Saturate)  
> 12\. Gematria (The Killing Name) - Slipknot (All Hope Is Gone)  
> 13\. A Place Where You Belong - Bullet For My Valentine (Fever)  
> 14\. Breaking Inside - Shinedown (Sound of Madness)  
> 15\. Dear Agony - Breaking Benjamin (Dear Agony)  
> 16\. Penance/Close My Eyes Forever - Both from the band Device, on the debut album titled Device  
> 17\. Then The Morning Comes - Smash Mouth (Astro Lounge)  
> 18\. Back To Good - Matchbox Twenty (Yourself Or Somone Like You)  
> 19\. Nowhere Kids - Shinedown (Amaryllis)  
> 20\. Generation Dead - Five Finger Death Punch (American Capitalist)
> 
> Most of those titles were chosen simply because the title of the song fit the chapter, but here are the ones that were named so because the lyrics to the song also fit the chapter, or story in itself:
> 
> 6\. Almost Easy (Fits the story itself)  
> 8\. Everything Changes (Fits the story itself)  
> 9\. Give Me A Sign (Fits both the chapter and the story itself)  
> 11\. Water (Fits both the chapter and the story itself)  
> 13\. A Place Where You Belong (Fits the chapter)  
> 14\. Breaking Inside (Fits both the chapter and the story itself)  
> 15\. Dear Agony (Fits both the chapter and the story itself)  
> 16\. Penance/Close My Eyes Forever (Both fit the chapter)  
> 18\. Back To Good (Fits the story itself)  
> 20\. Generation Dead (Fits the story itself)
> 
> While I'd love for you to listen to all of the songs I used, I highly recommend the ones listed above, because I feel that certain lyrics (and in some cases all the lyrics) will really add depth to the story and/or the chapter it's used for. Just a suggestion. If you do listen to the songs, though, please message me and tell me which one was your favorite, and which one you thought fit the story/chapter best. I'd love to know. 
> 
> Alright, it's been fun, guys. Thank you all so much for reading, for giving me kudos, and for commenting. This has definitely helped me grow as a writer, and I love all of you.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos would make me quite happy.  
> Feedback is welcome and wanted. Please give me all your thoughts, good or bad, and be as honest and straight-forward with me as possible. I really want to improve my work.
> 
> Update: Because I have currently started work on my first novel and already have quite a few people supporting me, someone suggested I set up a newsletter about the book.   
> It'd be mostly updates about the writing process, quotes from the book, and in the future updates about publication and when it'll be available for purchase.  
> The newsletter will be a mass email sent out roughly once a week. So if you're interested in being a part of this you can send me an email at chayne43571@gmail.com, where the newsletter will be sent from, or you can message me here or at my tumblr (insanechayne.tumblr.com) with the email address you'd like me to send the letter to.   
> Thank you for your support!


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